`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't know exactly where -- but it would be lovely, don't you think, high in the perfect snow -- ?'

`Very lovely!' said Gudrun, sarcastically.

Ursula was put out.

`Of course,' she said, `I think Gerald spoke to Rupert so that it shouldn't seem like an outing with a type -- '

`I know, of course,' said Gudrun, `that he quite commonly does take up with that sort.'

`Does he!' said Ursula. `Why how do you know?'

`I know of a model in Chelsea,' said Gudrun coldly. Now Ursula was silent. `Well,' she said at last, with a doubtful laugh, `I hope he has a good time with her.' At which Gudrun looked more glum.