the understanding of a fool?' she asked.

'A fool!' he repeated.

'A fool, a conceited fool--a Dummkopf,' she replied, adding the German
word.

'Do you call me a fool?' he replied. 'Well, wouldn't I rather be the
fool I am, than that flea downstairs?'

She looked at him. A certain blunt, blind stupidity in him palled on
her soul, limiting her.

'You give yourself away by that last,' she said.

He sat and wondered.

'I shall go away soon,' he said.

She turned on him.

'Remember,' she said, 'I am completely independent of you--completely.
You make your arrangements, I make mine.'

He pondered this.

'You mean we are strangers from this minute?' he asked.

She halted and flushed. He was putting her in a trap, forcing her hand.
She turned round on him.

'Strangers,' she said, 'we can never be. But if you WANT to make any
movement apart from me, then I wish you to know you are perfectly free
to do so. Do not consider me in the slightest.'

Even so slight an implication that she needed him and was depending on
him still was sufficient to rouse his passion. As he sat a change came
over his body, the hot, molten stream mounted involuntarily through his
veins. He groaned inwardly, under its bondage, but he loved it. He
looked at her with clear eyes, waiting for her.

She knew at once, and was shaken with cold revulsion. HOW could he look
at her with those clear, warm, waiting eyes, waiting for her, even now?
What had been said between them, was it not enough to put them worlds
asunder, to freeze them forever apart! And yet he was all transfused
and roused, waiting for her.

It confused her. Turning her head aside, she said:

'I shall always TELL you, whenever I am going to make any change--'

And with this she moved out of the room.

He sat suspended in a fine recoil of disappointment, that seemed
gradually to be destroying his understanding. But the unconscious state
of patience persisted in him. He remained motionless, without thought
or knowledge, for a long time. Then he rose, and went downstairs, to
play at chess with one of the students. His face was open and clear,
with a certain innocent LAISSER-ALLER that troubled Gudrun most, made
her almost afraid of him, whilst she disliked him deeply for it.

It was after this that Loerke, who had never yet spoken to her
personally, began to ask her of her state.

'You are not married at all, are you?' he asked.

She looked full at him.

'Not in the