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Updated: June 25, 2025
'Of course, she said, turning to tease Loerke now, 'you UNDERSTOOD your little Malschulerin. He raised his eyebrows and his shoulders in a complacent shrug. 'The little girl? asked Gerald, pointing to the figure. Gudrun was sitting with the picture in her lap. She looked up at Gerald, full into his eyes, so that he seemed to be blinded.
Before twenty, she is small and fresh and tender and slight. After that let her be what she likes, she has nothing for me. The Venus of Milo is a bourgeoise so are they all. 'And you don't care for women at all after twenty? asked Gerald. 'They are no good to me, they are of no use in my art, Loerke repeated impatiently. 'I don't find them beautiful.
He returned almost immediately with a little roll of paper, which he handed to her. She unrolled it. It was a photogravure reproduction of a statuette, signed F. Loerke. 'That is quite an early thing NOT mechanical, he said, 'more popular. The statuette was of a naked girl, small, finely made, sitting on a great naked horse. The girl was young and tender, a mere bud.
For Gerald came down like a sledge-hammer with his assertions, anything the little German said was merely contemptible rubbish. At last Loerke turned to Gudrun, raising his hands in helpless irony, a shrug of ironical dismissal, something appealing and child-like. 'Sehen sie, gnadige Frau-' he began. 'Bitte sagen Sie nicht immer, gnadige Frau, cried Gudrun, her eyes flashing, her cheeks burning.
Loerke laughed, wrinkling up his face oddly. There was a thin wisp of his hair straying on his forehead, she noticed that his skin was of a clear brown colour, his hands, his wrists. And his hands seemed closely prehensile. He seemed like topaz, so strangely brownish and pellucid. 'Good, he said. Still it needed some courage for him to go on. 'Was Mrs Birkin your sister? he asked. 'Yes.
She had a curious sort of allegiance with Loerke, all the while, now, something insidious and traitorous. Gerald knew of it.
Gudrun looked at her, and the two sisters burst out laughing, carried away. Loerke glanced at them swiftly, with his full eyes. Birkin was sniggering involuntarily. Gerald Crich sat erect, with a glistening look of amusement on his face.
He was interesting to her. She had lost her interest in Loerke. Gerald rose at length, and went over in a leisurely still movement, to the Professor. The two began a conversation on Goethe. She was rather piqued by the simplicity of Gerald's demeanour this evening. He did not seem angry or disgusted, only he looked curiously innocent and pure, really beautiful.
It will be amusing to go to these eurythmic displays, and the German opera, the German theatre. It WILL be amusing to take part in German Bohemian life. And Loerke is an artist, he is a free individual. One will escape from so much, that is the chief thing, escape so much hideous boring repetition of vulgar actions, vulgar phrases, vulgar postures.
He glanced swiftly from one to the other of the strangers, and held himself aloof. 'Please go on with the recitation, said the Professor, suavely, with his slight authority. Loerke, who was sitting hunched on the piano stool, blinked and did not answer. 'It would be a great pleasure, said Ursula, who had been getting the sentence ready, in German, for some minutes.
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