'Come and have tea,' he said.
'Yes, I should love it,' she replied, gathering herself together.
They sat facing each other across the tea table.
'I did not say, nor imply, a satellite. I meant two single equal stars
balanced in conjunction--'
'You gave yourself away, you gave away your little game completely,'
she cried, beginning at once to eat. He saw that she would take no
further heed of his expostulation, so he began to pour the tea.
'What GOOD things to eat!' she cried.
'Take your own sugar,' he said.
He handed her her cup. He had everything so nice, such pretty cups and
plates, painted with mauve-lustre and green, also shapely bowls and
glass plates, and old spoons, on a woven cloth of pale grey and black
and purple. It was very rich and fine. But Ursula could see Hermione's
influence.
'Your things are so lovely!' she said, almost angrily.
'I like them. It gives me real pleasure to use things that are
attractive in themselves--pleasant things. And Mrs Daykin is good. She
thinks everything is wonderful, for my sake.'
'Really,' said Ursula, 'landladies are better than wives, nowadays.
They certainly CARE a great deal more. It is much more beautiful and
complete here now, than if you were married.'
'But think of the emptiness within,' he laughed.
'No,' she said. 'I am jealous that men have such perfect landladies and
such beautiful lodgings. There is nothing left them to desire.'
'In the house-keeping way, we'll hope not. It is disgusting, people
marrying for a home.'
'Still,' said Ursula, 'a man has very little need for a woman now, has
he?'
'In outer things, maybe--except to share his bed and bear his children.
But essentially, there is just the same need as there ever was. Only
nobody takes the trouble to be essential.'
'How essential?' she said.
'I do think,' he said, 'that the world is only held together by the
mystic conjunction, the ultimate unison between people--a bond. And the
immediate bond is between man and woman.'
'But it's such old hat,' said Ursula. 'Why should love be a bond? No,
I'm not having any.'
'If you are walking westward,' he said, 'you forfeit the northern and
eastward and southern direction. If you admit a unison, you forfeit all
the possibilities of chaos.'
'But love is freedom,' she declared.
'Don't cant to me,' he replied. 'Love is a direction which excludes all
other directions. It's a freedom TOGETHER, if you like.'
'No,' she said, 'love includes everything.'
'Sentimental cant,' he replied. 'You want the state of chaos, that's
all. It is ultimate nihilism, this freedom-in-love business, this
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