others--the perfect relation--so that
we are free together.'

'It is, my love, isn't it,' she said. 'It's you and me. It's you and
me, isn't it?' She stretched out her arms to him. He went across and
stooped to kiss her face. Her arms closed round him again, her hands
spread upon his shoulders, moving slowly there, moving slowly on his
back, down his back slowly, with a strange recurrent, rhythmic motion,
yet moving slowly down, pressing mysteriously over his loins, over his
flanks. The sense of the awfulness of riches that could never be
impaired flooded her mind like a swoon, a death in most marvellous
possession, mystic-sure. She possessed him so utterly and intolerably,
that she herself lapsed out. And yet she was only sitting still in the
chair, with her hands pressed upon him, and lost.

Again he softly kissed her.

'We shall never go apart again,' he murmured quietly. And she did not
speak, but only pressed her hands firmer down upon the source of
darkness in him.

They decided, when they woke again from the pure swoon, to write their
resignations from the world of work there and then. She wanted this.

He rang the bell, and ordered note-paper without a printed address. The
waiter cleared the table.

'Now then,' he said, 'yours first. Put your home address, and the
date--then "Director of Education, Town Hall--Sir--" Now then!--I don't
know how one really stands--I suppose one could get out of it in less
than month--Anyhow "Sir--I beg to resign my post as classmistress in
the Willey Green Grammar School. I should be very grateful if you would
liberate me as soon as possible, without waiting for the expiration of
the month's notice." That'll do. Have you got it? Let me look. "Ursula
Brangwen." Good! Now I'll write mine. I ought to give them three
months, but I can plead health. I can arrange it all right.'

He sat and wrote out his formal resignation.

'Now,' he said, when the envelopes were sealed and addressed, 'shall we
post them here, both together? I know Jackie will say, "Here's a
coincidence!" when he receives them in all their identity. Shall we let
him say it, or not?'

'I don't care,' she said.

'No--?' he said, pondering.

'It doesn't matter, does it?' she said.

'Yes,' he replied. 'Their imaginations shall not work on us. I'll post
yours here, mine after. I cannot be implicated in their imaginings.'

He looked at her with his strange, non-human singleness.

'Yes, you are right,' she s