“You are quite all right here?—nothing we can do for you?—nothing you find wrong in your position?”
“Except that you are too good to me,” said Gudrun.
“Ah, well, the fault of that lies with yourself,” he said, and he felt a little exultation, that he had made this speech.
He was still so strong and living! But the nausea of death began to creep back on him, in reaction.
Gudrun went away, back to Winifred. Mademoiselle had left, Gudrun stayed a good deal at Shortlands, and a tutor came in to carry on Winifred’s education. But he did not live in the house, he was connected with the Grammar School.
One day, Gudrun was to drive with Winifred and Gerald and Birkin to town, in the car. It was a dark, showery day. Winifred and Gudrun were ready and waiting at the door. Winifred was very quiet, but Gudrun had not noticed. Suddenly the child asked, in a voice of unconcern:
“Do you think my father’s going to die, Miss Brangwen?”
Gudrun started.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Don’t you truly?”