Gudrun waited.
“And you are glad?” she asked.
Ursula meditated for a moment.
“I believe I am very glad,” she replied.
But Gudrun read the unconscious brightness on her sister’s face, rather than the uncertain tones of her speech.
“But don’t you think you’ll want the old connection with the world—father and the rest of us, and all that it means, England and the world of thought—don’t you think you’ll need that, really to make a world?”
Ursula was silent, trying to imagine.
“I think,” she said at length, involuntarily, “that Rupert is right—one wants a new space to be in, and one falls away from the old.”
Gudrun watched her sister with impassive face and steady eyes.
“One wants a new space to be in, I quite agree,” she said. “But I think that a new world is a development from this world, and that to isolate oneself with one other person, isn’t to find a new world at all, but only to secure oneself in one’s illusions.”