The room was charged with excitement and strong, animal emotion. Loerke
was kept away from Gudrun, to whom he wanted to speak, as by a hedge of
thorns, and he felt a sardonic ruthless hatred for this young
love-companion, Leitner, who was his penniless dependent. He mocked the
youth, with an acid ridicule, that made Leitner red in the face and
impotent with resentment.
Gerald, who had now got the dance perfectly, was dancing again with the
younger of the Professor's daughters, who was almost dying of virgin
excitement, because she thought Gerald so handsome, so superb. He had
her in his power, as if she were a palpitating bird, a fluttering,
flushing, bewildered creature. And it made him smile, as she shrank
convulsively between his hands, violently, when he must throw her into
the air. At the end, she was so overcome with prostrate love for him,
that she could scarcely speak sensibly at all.
Birkin was dancing with Ursula. There were odd little fires playing in
his eyes, he seemed to have turned into something wicked and
flickering, mocking, suggestive, quite impossible. Ursula was
frightened of him, and fascinated. Clear, before her eyes, as in a
vision, she could see the sardonic, licentious mockery of his eyes, he
moved towards her with subtle, animal, indifferent approach. The
strangeness of his hands, which came quick and cunning, inevitably to
the vital place beneath her breasts, and, lifting with mocking,
suggestive impulse, carried her through the air as if without strength,
through blackmagic, made her swoon with fear. For a moment she
revolted, it was horrible. She would break the spell. But before the
resolution had formed she had submitted again, yielded to her fear. He
knew all the time what he was doing, she could see it in his smiling,
concentrated eyes. It was his responsibility, she would leave it to
him.
When they were alone in the darkness, she felt the strange,
licentiousness of him hovering upon her. She was troubled and repelled.
Why should he turn like this?
'What is it?' she asked in dread.
But his face only glistened on her, unknown, horrible. And yet she was
fascinated. Her impulse was to repel him violently, break from this
spell of mocking brutishness. But she was too fascinated, she wanted to
submit, she wanted to know. What would he do to her?
He was so attractive, and so repulsive at one. The sardonic
suggestivity that flickered over his face and looked from his narrowed
eyes, made her want to hide, to hide herself away from him and watch
him from somewhere unseen.
'Why are you like this?' she demanded again, rousing against him with
sudden force and animosity.