Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen sat one morning in the window-bay of their father’s house in Beldover, working and talking. Ursula was stitching a piece of brightly-coloured embroidery, and Gudrun was drawing upon a board which she held on her knee. They were mostly silent, talking as their thoughts strayed through their minds. “Ursula,” said Gudrun, “don’t you _really want_ to get married?” Ursula laid her embroidery in her lap and looked up. Her face was calm and considerate.…
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