
    Gudrun raised her face with difficulty and held it averted.
    »I think it might be awfully jolly, as you say,« she replied. »But don't you
think it was an unpardonable liberty to take - to talk of such things to Rupert
- who after all - you see what I mean, Ursula - they might have been two men
arranging an outing with some little type they'd picked up. Oh, I think it's
unforgivable, quite!« She used the French word type.
    Her eyes flashed, her soft face was flushed and sullen. Ursula looked on,
rather frightened, frightened most of all because she thought Gudrun seemed
rather common, really like a little type. But she had not the courage quite to
think this - not right out.
    »Oh no,« she cried, stammering. »Oh no - not at all like that - oh no! No, I
think it's rather beautiful, the friendship between Rupert and Gerald. They just
are simple - they say anything to each other, like brothers.«
    Gudrun flushed deeper. She could not bear it that Gerald gave her away -
even to Birkin.
    »But do you think even brothers have any right to exchange confidences of
that sort?« she asked, with deep anger.
    »Oh yes,« said Ursula. »There's never anything said that isn't perfectly
straightforward. No, the thing that's amazed me most in Gerald - how perfectly
simple and direct he can be! And you know, it takes rather a big man. Most of
them must be indirect, they are such cowards.«
    But Gudrun was still silent with anger. She wanted the absolute secrecy
kept, with regard to her movements.
    »Won't you go?« said Ursula. »Do, we might all be so happy! There is
something I love about Gerald - he's much more lovable than I thought him. He's
free, Gudrun, he really is.«
    Gudrun's mouth was still closed, sullen and ugly. She opened it at length.
    »Do you know where he proposes to go?« she asked.
    »Yes - to the Tyrol, where he used to go when he was in Germany - a lovely
place where students go, small and rough and lovely, for winter sport!«
    Through Gudrun's mind went the angry thought - they know everything.
    »Yes,« she said aloud, »about forty kilometres from Innsbruck, isn't it?«
    »I don
