t, treated with cool,
almost amused contempt by Hermione, and therefore slighted by
everybody--how known it all was, like a game with the figures set out,
the same figures, the Queen of chess, the knights, the pawns, the same
now as they were hundreds of years ago, the same figures moving round
in one of the innumerable permutations that make up the game. But the
game is known, its going on is like a madness, it is so exhausted.

There was Gerald, an amused look on his face; the game pleased him.
There was Gudrun, watching with steady, large, hostile eyes; the game
fascinated her, and she loathed it. There was Ursula, with a slightly
startled look on her face, as if she were hurt, and the pain were just
outside her consciousness.

Suddenly Birkin got up and went out.

'That's enough,' he said to himself involuntarily.

Hermione knew his motion, though not in her consciousness. She lifted
her heavy eyes and saw him lapse suddenly away, on a sudden, unknown
tide, and the waves broke over her. Only her indomitable will remained
static and mechanical, she sat at the table making her musing, stray
remarks. But the darkness had covered her, she was like a ship that has
gone down. It was finished for her too, she was wrecked in the
darkness. Yet the unfailing mechanism of her will worked on, she had
that activity.

'Shall we bathe this morning?' she said, suddenly looking at them all.

'Splendid,' said Joshua. 'It is a perfect morning.'

'Oh, it is beautiful,' said Fraulein.

'Yes, let us bathe,' said the Italian woman.

'We have no bathing suits,' said Gerald.

'Have mine,' said Alexander. 'I must go to church and read the lessons.
They expect me.'

'Are you a Christian?' asked the Italian Countess, with sudden
interest.

'No,' said Alexander. 'I'm not. But I believe in keeping up the old
institutions.'

'They are so beautiful,' said Fraulein daintily.

'Oh, they are,' cried Miss Bradley.

They all trailed out on to the lawn. It was a sunny, soft morning in
early summer, when life ran in the world subtly, like a reminiscence.
The church bells were ringing a little way off, not a cloud was in the
sky, the swans were like lilies on the water below, the peacocks walked
with long, prancing steps across the shadow and into the sunshine of
the grass. One wanted to swoon into the by-gone perfection of it all.

'Good-bye,' called Alexander, waving his gloves cheerily, and he
disappeared behind the bushes, on his