'I know these beggars of old,' he said.
The long, demon-like beast lashed out again, spread on the air as if it
were flying, looking something like a dragon, then closing up again,
inconceivably powerful and explosive. The man's body, strung to its
efforts, vibrated strongly. Then a sudden sharp, white-edged wrath came
up in him. Swift as lightning he drew back and brought his free hand
down like a hawk on the neck of the rabbit. Simultaneously, there came
the unearthly abhorrent scream of a rabbit in the fear of death. It
made one immense writhe, tore his wrists and his sleeves in a final
convulsion, all its belly flashed white in a whirlwind of paws, and
then he had slung it round and had it under his arm, fast. It cowered
and skulked. His face was gleaming with a smile.
'You wouldn't think there was all that force in a rabbit,' he said,
looking at Gudrun. And he saw her eyes black as night in her pallid
face, she looked almost unearthly. The scream of the rabbit, after the
violent tussle, seemed to have torn the veil of her consciousness. He
looked at her, and the whitish, electric gleam in his face intensified.
'I don't really like him,' Winifred was crooning. 'I don't care for him
as I do for Loozie. He's hateful really.' A smile twisted Gudrun's face, as she recovered. She knew she was
revealed. 'Don't they make the most fearful noise when they scream?'
she cried, the high note in her voice, like a sea-gull's cry.
'Abominable,' he said.
'He shouldn't be so silly when he has to be taken out,' Winifred was
saying, putting out her hand and touching the rabbit tentatively, as it
skulked under his arm, motionless as if it were dead.
'He's not dead, is he Gerald?' she asked.
'No, he ought to be,' he said.
'Yes, he ought!' cried the child, with a sudden flush of amusement. And
she touched the rabbit with more confidence. 'His heart is beating SO
fast. Isn't he funny? He really is.' 'Where do you want him?' asked Gerald.
'In the little green court,' she said.
Gudrun looked at Gerald with strange, darkened eyes, strained with
underworld knowledge, almost supplicating, like those of a creature
which is at his mercy, yet which is his ultimate victor. He did not
know what to say to her. He felt the mutual hellish recognition. And he
felt he ought to say something, to cover it. He had the power of
lightning in his nerves, she seemed like a soft recipient of his
magical, hideous white fire. He was unconfident, he had qualms of fear.