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They went on in silence down the path; following their
different fates。 The trees grew darker and darker; the snow made
only a dimness in an unreal world。 And like a shadow; the day
had gone into a faintly luminous; snowy evening; while she was
talking aimlessly to him; to keep him at a distance; yet to keep
him near her; and he walked heavily。 He opened the garden gate
for her quietly; and she was entering into her own pleasances;
leaving him outside the gate。
Then even whilst she was escaping; or trying to escape; this
feeling of pain; came Maggie the next day; saying:
〃I wouldn't make Anthony love you; Ursula; if you don't want
him。 It is not nice。〃
〃But; Maggie; I never made him love me;〃 cried Ursula;
dismayed and suffering; and feeling as if she had done something
base。
She liked Anthony; though。 All her life; at intervals; she
returned to the thought of him and of that which he offered。 But
she was a traveller; she was a traveller on the face of the
earth; and he was an isolated creature living in the fulfilment
of his own senses。
She could not help it; that she was a traveller。 She knew
Anthony; that he was not one。 But oh; ultimately and finally;
she must go on and on; seeking the goal that she knew she did
draw nearer to。
She was wearing away her second and last cycle at St。
Philip's。 As the months went she ticked them off; first October;
then November; December; January。 She was careful always to
subtract a month from the remainder; for the summer holidays。
She saw herself travelling round a circle; only an arc of which
remained to plete。 Then; she was in