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Updated: June 12, 2025
He moved about a great deal, his life seemed uncertain, without any definite rhythm, any organic meaning. On the platform of the railway station he saw Gerald Crich, reading a newspaper, and evidently waiting for the train. Birkin stood some distance off, among the people. It was against his instinct to approach anybody.
I'd rather Diana Crich were dead. Her living somehow, was all wrong. As for the young man, poor devil he'll find his way out quickly instead of slowly. Death is all right nothing better. 'Yet you don't want to die, she challenged him. He was silent for a time.
She looked like a vivid Medusa. Her voice was loud and clamorous, the other people in the room were startled. 'Please don't call me Mrs Crich, she cried aloud. The name, in Loerke's mouth particularly, had been an intolerable humiliation and constraint upon her, these many days. The two men looked at her in amazement. Gerald went white at the cheek-bones.
'But how beautiful they are! she said, in a muffled voice. Then, with a strange, suddenly revealed passion, she stooped and kissed Winifred. Mr Crich went forward with his hand held out to her. 'I was afraid you were going to run away from us, he said, playfully. Gudrun looked up at him with a luminous, roguish, unknown face. 'Really! she replied.
'Look! she cried. 'Three new puppies! Marshall says this one seems perfect. Isn't it a sweetling? But it isn't so nice as its mother. She turned to caress the fine white bull-terrier bitch that stood uneasily near her. 'My dearest Lady Crich, she said, 'you are beautiful as an angel on earth. Angel angel don't you think she's good enough and beautiful enough to go to heaven, Gudrun?
'Come, Christiana, it isn't like that. Don't be uncharitable. But she suddenly swept out of the room, and out to the study. There sat the meagre charity-seekers, looking as if they were at the doctor's. 'Mr Crich can't see you. He can't see you at this hour. Do you think he is your property, that you can come whenever you like? You must go away, there is nothing for you here.
Now he spoke quite easily and pleasantly to Mr Crich, as they walked along the path; he played with situations like a man on a tight-rope: but always on a tight-rope, pretending nothing but ease. 'I'm sorry we are so late, he was saying. 'We couldn't find a button-hook, so it took us a long time to button our boots. But you were to the moment. 'We are usually to time, said Mr Crich.
About the same time he erected great lime-works, close to the Ambergate station of the Midland Railway, from which, when in full operation he was able to turn out upwards of 200 tons a day. The limestone was brought on a tramway from the village of Crich, 2 or 3 miles distant, the coal being supplied from his adjoining Claycross colliery.
Gudrun and Winifred went through the house to the back, where were the stables and the out-buildings. Everywhere was still and deserted. Mr Crich had gone out for a short drive, the stableman had just led round Gerald's horse. The two girls went to the hutch that stood in a corner, and looked at the great black-and-white rabbit. 'Isn't he beautiful! Oh, do look at him listening!
'Do you know if Mr and Mrs Crich English from Paris, have arrived? Birkin asked in German. The porter reflected a moment, and was just going to answer, when Ursula caught sight of Gudrun sauntering down the stairs, wearing her dark glossy coat, with grey fur. 'Gudrun! Gudrun! she called, waving up the well of the staircase. 'Shu-hu!
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