a strange； radiant pain。 Whilst she kneeled beside him； and
kissed his breast with a slow； rapt； halfdevotional
movement。
He knew she wanted something； his heart yearned to give it
her。 His heart yearned over her。 And as she lifted her face；
that was radiant and rosy as a little cloud； his heart still
yearned over her； and； now from the distance； adored her。 She
had a flowerlike presence which he adored as he stood far off；
a stranger。
The weeks passed on； the time drew near； they were very
gentle； and delicately happy。 The insistent； passionate； dark
soul； the powerful unsatisfaction in him seemed stilled and
tamed； the lion lay down with the lamb in him。
She loved him very much indeed； and he waited near her。 She
was a precious； remote thing to him at this time； as she waited
for her child。 Her soul was glad with an ecstasy because of the
ing infant。 She wanted a boy： oh； very much she wanted a
boy。
But she seemed so young and so frail。 She was indeed only a
girl。 As she stood by the fire washing herselfshe was
proud to wash herself at this timeand he looked at her；
his heart was full of extreme tenderness for her。 Such fine；
fine limbs； her slim； round arms like chasing lights； and her
legs so simple and childish； yet so very proud。 Oh； she stood on
proud legs； with a lovely reckless balance of her full belly；
and the adorable little roundnesses； and the breasts being
important。 Above it all； her face was like a rosy cloud
shining。
How proud she was； what a lovely proud thing her young body！
And she loved him to put his hand on her ripe fullness； so that
he should thrill also with the stir and the quickening there。 He
was afraid and silent； but she flung her arms round his neck
with proud； impudent joy。
The pains came on； and Ohhow she cried！ She would have
him stay with her。 And after her long cries she would look at
him； with tears in her eyes and a sobbing laugh on her face；
saying：
〃I don't mind it really。〃
It was bad enough。 But to her it was never deathly。 Even the
fierce； tearing pain was exhilarating。 She screamed and
suffered； but was all the time curiously alive and vital。 She
felt so powerfully alive and in the hands of such a masterly
force of life； that her bottommost feeling was one of
exhilaration。 She knew she was winning； winning； she was always
winning； with each onset of pain she was nearer to victory。
Probably he suffered more than she did。 He was not shocked or
horrified。 But he was screwed very tight in the vise of
suffering。
It was a girl。 The second of silence on her face when they
said so showed him she was disappointed。 And a great blazing
passion of resentment and protest sprang up in his heart。 In
that moment he claimed the child。
But when the milk came； and the infant sucked her breast； she
seemed to be leaping with extravagant bliss。
〃It sucks me； it sucks me； it likes meoh； it loves
it！〃 she cried； holding the child to her breast with her two
hands covering it； passionately。
And in a few moments； as she became used to her bliss； she
looked at the youth with glowing； unseeing eyes； and said：
〃Anna Victrix。〃
He went away； trembling； and slept。 To her； her pains were
the woundsmart of a victor； she was the prouder。
When she was well again she was very happy。 She called the
baby Ursula。 Both Anna and her husband felt they must have a
name that gave them private satisfaction。 The baby was tawny
skinned； it had a curious downy skin； and wisps of bronze hair；
and the yellow grey eyes that wavered； and then became
goldenbrown like the father's。 So they called her Ursula
because of the picture of the saint。
It was a rather delicate baby at first； but soon it became
stronger； and was restless as a young eel。 Anna was worn out
with the daylong wrestling with its young vigour。
As a little animal； she loved and adored it and was happy。
She loved her husband； she kissed his eyes and nose and mouth；
and made much of him； she said his limbs were beautiful； she was
fascinated by the physical form of him。
And she was indeed Anna Victrix。 He could not bat her any
more。 He was out in the wilderness； alone with her。 Having
occasion to go to London； he marvelled； as he returned； thinking
of naked； lurking savages on an island； how these had built up
and created the great mass of Oxford Street or Piccadilly。 How
had helpless savages； running with their spears on the
riverside； after fish； how had they e to rear up this great
London； the ponderous； massive； ugly superstructure of a world
of man upon a world of nature！ It frightened and awed him。 Man
was terrible； awful in his works。 The works of man were more
terrible than man himself； almost monstrous。
And yet； for his own part； for his private being； Brangwen
felt that the whole of the man's world was exterior and
extraneous to his own real life with Anna。 Sweep away the whole
monstrous superstructure of the world of today； cities and
industries and civilization； leave only the bare earth with
plants growing and waters running； and he would not mind； so
long as he were whole； had Anna and the child and the new；
strange certainty in his soul。 Then； if he were naked； he would
find clothing somewhere； he would make a shelter and bring food
to his wife。
And what more？ What more would be necessary？ The great mass
of activity in which mankind was engaged meant nothing to him。
By nature； he had no part in it。 What did he live for； then？ For
Anna only； and for the sake of living？ What did he want on this
earth？ Anna only； and his children； and his life with his
children and her？ Was there no more？
He was attended by a sense of something more； something
further； which gave him absolute being。 It was as if now he
existed in Eternity； let Time be what it might。 What was there
outside？ The fabricated world； that he did not believe in？ What
should he bring to her； from outside？ Nothing？ Was it enough； as
it was？ He was troubled in his acquiescence。 She was not with
him。 Yet he scarcely believed in himself； apart from her； though
the whole Infinite was with him。 Let the whole world slide down
and over the edge of oblivion； he would stand alone。 But he was
unsure of her。 And he existed also in her。 So he was unsure。
He hovered near to her； never quite able to fet the vague；
haunting uncertainty； that seemed to challenge him； and which he
would not hear。 A pang of dread； almost guilt； as of
insufficiency； would go over him as he heard her talking to the
baby。 She stood before the window； with the monthold child in
her arms； talking in a musical； young singsong that he had not
heard before； and which rang on his heart like a claim from the
distance； or the voice of another world sounding its claim on
him。 He stood near； listening； and his heart surged； surged to
rise and submit。 Then it shrank back and stayed aloof。 He could
not move； a denial was upon him； as if he could not deny
himself。 He must； he must be himself。
〃Look at the silly bluecaps； my beauty；〃 she crooned；
holding up the infant to the window； where shone the white
garden； and the bluetits scuffling in the snow： 〃Look at the
silly bluecaps； my darling； having a fight in the snow！ Look at
them； my birdbeating the snow about with their wings； and
shaking their heads。 Oh； aren't they wicked things； wicked
things！ Look at their yellow feathers on the snow there！ They'll
miss them； won't they； when they're cold later on。
〃Must we tell them to stop； must we say 'stop it' to them； my
bird？ But they are naughty； naughty！ Look at them！〃 Suddenly her
voice broke loud and fierce； she rapped the pane sharply。
〃Stop it；〃 she cried； 〃stop it； you little nuisances。 Stop
it！〃 She called louder； and rapped the pane more sharply。 Her
voice was fierce and imperative。
〃Have more sense；〃 she cried。
〃There； now they're gone。 Where have they gone； the silly
things？ What will they say to each other？ What will they say； my
lambkin？ They'll fet； won't they； they'll fet all about
it； out of their silly little heads； and their blue caps。〃
After a moment； she turned her bright face to her
husband。
〃They were really fighting； they were really fierce
with each other！〃 she said； her voice keen with excitement and
wonder； as if she belonged to the birds' world； were identified
with the race of birds。
〃Ay； they'll fight； will bluecaps；〃 he said； glad when she
turned to him with her glow from elsewhere。 He came and stood
beside her and looked out at the marks on the snow where the
birds had scuffled； and at the yew trees' burdened； white and
black branches。 What was the appeal it made to him； what was the
question of her bright face； what was the challenge he was
called to answer？ He did not know。 But as he stood there he felt
some responsibility which made him glad； but uneasy； as if he
must put out his own light。 And he could not move as yet。
Anna loved the child very much； oh； very much。 Yet still she
was not quite fulfilled。 She had a slight expectant feeling； as
of a door half opened。 Here she was； safe and still in
Cossethay。 But she felt as if she were not in Cossethay at all。
She was straining her eyes to something beyond。 And from her
Pisgah mount； which she had attained； what could she see？ A
faint； gleaming horizon； a long way off； and a rainbow like an
archway； a shadowdoor with faintly coloured coping above it。
Must she be moving thither？
Something she had not； something she did not grasp； could not
arrive at。 There was something beyond her。 But why must she
start on the journey？ She stood so safely on the Pisgah
mountain。
In the winter； when she rose with the sunrise； and out of the
back windows saw the east flaming yellow and orange above the
green； glowing grass； while the great pear tree in between stood
dark and magnificent as an idol； and under the dark pear tree；
the little sheet of water spread smooth in burnished； yellow
light； she said； 〃It is here〃。 And when； at evening； the sunset
came in a red glare through the big opening in the clouds； she
said again； 〃It is beyond〃。
Dawn and sunset were the feet of the rainbow that spanned the
day； and she saw the hope； the promise。 Why should she travel
any further？
Yet she always asked the question。 As the sun went down in
his fiery winter haste； she faced the blazing close of the
affair； in which she had not played her fullest part； and she
made her demand still： 〃What are you doing； making this big
shining motion？ What is it that you keep so busy about； that
you will not let us alone？〃
She did not turn to her husband； for him to lead her。 He was
apart from her； with her； according to her different conceptions
of him。 The child she might hold up； she might toss the child
forward into the furnace； the child might walk there； amid the
burning coals and the incandescent roar of heat； as the three
witnesses walked with the angel in the fire。
Soon； she felt sure of her husband。 She knew his dark face
and the extent of its passion。 She knew his slim； vigorous body；
she said it was hers。 Then there was no denying her。 She was a
rich woman enjoying her riches。
And soon again she was with child。 Which made her satisfied
and took away her disco