in. But isn't it RIDICULOUS, doesn't it simply prevent our living!'

She was so hot, so flushed, so furious, that Ursula was puzzled.

The two sisters went on, up the road. They were passing between the
trees just below Shortlands. They looked up at the long, low house, dim
and glamorous in the wet morning, its cedar trees slanting before the
windows. Gudrun seemed to be studying it closely.

'Don't you think it's attractive, Ursula?' asked Gudrun.

'Very,' said Ursula. 'Very peaceful and charming.'

'It has form, too--it has a period.'

'What period?'

'Oh, eighteenth century, for certain; Dorothy Wordsworth and Jane
Austen, don't you think?'

Ursula laughed.

'Don't you think so?' repeated Gudrun.

'Perhaps. But I don't think the Criches fit the period. I know Gerald
is putting in a private electric plant, for lighting the house, and is
making all kinds of latest improvements.'

Gudrun shrugged her shoulders swiftly.