came for Anna and her young husband to pay a visit to Briswell
vicarage。 For the Skrebenskys were now moderately well off；
Millicent Skrebensky having some fortune of her own。
Anna took her best clothes； recovered her best highschool
manner； and arrived with her husband。 Will Brangwen； ruddy；
bright； with long limbs and a small head； like some uncouth
bird； was not changed in the least。 The little Baroness was
smiling； showing her teeth。 She had a real charm； a kind of
joyous coldness； laughing； delighted； like some weasel。 Anna at
once respected her； and was on her guard before her；
instinctively attracted by the strange； childlike surety of the
Baroness； yet mistrusting it； fascinated。 The little baron was
now quite whitehaired； very brittle。 He was wizened and
wrinkled； yet fiery； unsubdued。 Anna looked at his lean body； at
his small； fine lean legs and lean hands as he sat talking； and
she flushed。 She recognized the quality of the male in him； his
lean； concentrated age； his informed fire； his faculty for
sharp； deliberate response。 He was so detached； so purely
objective。 A woman was thoroughly outside him。 There was no
confusion。 So he could give that fine； deliberate response。
He was something separate and interesting； his hard；
intrinsic being； whittled down by age to an essentiality and a
directness almost deathlike； cruel； was yet so unswervingly
sure in its action； so distinct in its surety； that she was
attracted to him。 She watched his cool； hard； separate fire；
fascinated by it。 Would she rather have it than her husband's
diffuse heat； than his blind； hot youth？
She seemed to be breathing high； sharp air； as if she had
just e out of a hot room。 These strange Skrebenskys made her
aware of another； freer element； in which each person was
detached and isolated。 Was not this her natural element？ Was not
the close Brangwen life stifling her？
Meanwhile the little baroness； with always a subtle light
stirring of her full； lustrous； hazel eyes； was playing with
Will Brangwen。 He was not quick enough to see all her movements。
Yet he watched her steadily； with unchanging； litup eyes。 She
was a strange creature to him。 But she had no power over him。
She flushed； and was irritated。 Yet she glanced again and again
at his dark； living face； curiously； as if she despised him。 She
despised his uncritical； unironical nature； it had nothing for
her。 Yet it angered her as if she were jealous。 He watched her
with deferential interest as he would watch a stoat playing。 But
he himself was not implicated。 He was different in kind。 She was
all lambent； biting flames； he was a red fire glowing steadily。
She could get nothing out of him。 So she made him flush darkly
by assuming a biting； subtle classsuperiority。 He flushed； but
still he did not object。 He was too different。
Her little boy came in with the nurse。 He was a quick； slight
child； with fine perceptiveness； and a cool transitoriness in
his interest。 At once he treated Will Brangwen as an outsider。
He stayed by Anna for a moment； acknowledged her； then was gone
again； quick； observant； restless； with a glance of interest at
everything。
The father adored him； and spoke to him in Polish。 It was
queer； the stiff； aristocratic manner of the father with the
child； the distance in the relationship； the classic fatherhood
on the one hand； the filial subordination on the other。 They
played together； in their different degrees very separate； two
different beings； differing as it were in rank rather than in
relationship。 And the baroness smiled； smiled； smiled； always
smiled； showing her rather protruding teeth； having always a
mysterious attraction and charm。
Anna realized how different her own life might have been； how
different her own living。 Her soul stirred； she became as
another person。 Her intimacy with her husband passed away； the
curious enveloping Brangwen intimacy； so warm； so close； so
stifling； when one seemed always to be in contact with the other
person； like a bloodrelation； was annulled。 She denied it； this
close relationship with her young husband。 He and she were not
one。 His heat was not always to suffuse her； suffuse her；
through her mind and her individuality； till she was of one heat
with him； till she had not her own self apart。 She wanted her
own life。 He seemed to lap her and suffuse her with his being；
his hot life； till she did not know whether she were herself； or
whether she were another creature； united with him in a world of
close bloodintimacy that closed over her and excluded her from
all the cool outside。
She wanted her own； old； sharp self； detached； detached；
active but not absorbed； active for her own part； taking and
giving； but never absorbed。 Whereas he wanted this strange
absorption with her； which still she resisted。 But she was
partly helpless against it。 She had lived so long in Tom
Brangwen's love； beforehand。
From the Skrebensky's； they went to Will Brangwen's beloved
Lincoln Cathedral； because it was not far off。 He had promised
her； that one by one； they should visit all the cathedrals of
England。 They began with Lincoln； which he knew well。
He began to get excited as the time drew near to set off。
What was it that changed him so much？ She was almost angry；
ing as she did from the Skrebensky's。 But now he ran on
alone。 His very breast seemed to open its doors to watch for the
great church brooding over the town。 His soul ran ahead。
When he saw the cathedral in the distance； dark blue lifted
watchful in the sky； his heart leapt。 It was the sign in heaven；
it was the Spirit hovering like a dove； like an eagle over the
earth。 He turned his glowing； ecstatic face to her； his mouth
opened with a strange； ecstatic grin。
〃There she is；〃 he said。
The 〃she〃 irritated her。 Why 〃she〃？ It was 〃it〃。 What was the
cathedral； a big building； a thing of the past； obsolete； to
excite him to such a pitch？ She began to stir herself to
readiness。
They passed up the steep hill； he eager as a pilgrim arriving
at the shrine。 As they came near the precincts； with castle on
one side and cathedral on the other； his veins seemed to break
into fiery blossom； he was transported。
They had passed through the gate； and the great west front
was before them； with all its breadth and ornament。
〃It is a false front；〃 he said； looking at the golden stone
and the twin towers； and loving them just the same。 In a little
ecstasy he found himself in the porch； on the brink of the
unrevealed。 He looked up to the lovely unfolding of the stone。
He was to pass within to the perfect womb。
Then he pushed open the door； and the great； pillared gloom
was before him； in which his soul shuddered and rose from her
nest。 His soul leapt； soared up into the great church。 His body
stood still； absorbed by the height。 His soul leapt up into the
gloom； into possession； it reeled； it swooned with a great
escape； it quivered in the womb； in the hush and the gloom of
fecundity； like seed of procreation in ecstasy。
She too was overe with wonder and awe。 She followed him in
his progress。 Here； the twilight was the very essence of life；
the coloured darkness was the embryo of all light； and the day。
Here； the very first dawn was breaking； the very last sunset
sinking； and the immemorial darkness； whereof life's day would
blossom and fall away again； reechoed peace and profound
immemorial silence。
Away from time； always outside of time！ Between east and
west； between dawn and sunset； the church lay like a seed in
silence； dark before germination； silenced after death。
Containing birth and death； potential with all the noise and
transition of life； the cathedral remained hushed； a great；
involved seed； whereof the flower would be radiant life
inconceivable； but whose beginning and whose end were the circle
of silence。 Spanned round with the rainbow； the jewelled gloom
folded music upon silence； light upon darkness； fecundity upon
death； as a seed folds leaf upon leaf and silence upon the root
and the flower； hushing up the secret of all between its parts；
the death out of which it fell； the life into which it has
dropped； the immortality it involves； and the death it will
embrace again。
Here in the church； 〃before〃 and 〃after〃 were folded
together； all was contained in oneness。 Brangwen came to his
consummation。 Out of the doors of the womb he had e； putting
aside the wings of the womb； and proceeding into the light。
Through daylight and dayafterday he had e； knowledge after
knowledge； and experience after experience； remembering the
darkness of the womb； having prescience of the darkness after
death。 Then betweenwhile he had pushed open the doors of
the cathedral； and entered the twilight of both darkness； the
hush of the twofold silence where dawn was sunset； and the
beginning and the end were one。
Here the stone leapt up from the plain of earth； leapt up in
a manifold； clustered desire each time； up； away from the
horizontal earth； through twilight and dusk and the whole range
of desire； through the swerving； the declination； ah； to the
ecstasy； the touch； to the meeting and the consummation； the
meeting； the clasp； the close embrace； the neutrality； the
perfect； swooning consummation； the timeless ecstasy。 There his
soul remained； at the apex of the arch； clinched in the timeless
ecstasy； consummated。
And there was no time nor life nor death； but only this； this
timeless consummation； where the thrust from earth met the
thrust from earth and the arch was locked on the keystone of
ecstasy。 This was all； this was everything。 Till he came to
himself in the world below。 Then again he gathered himself
together； in transit； every jet of him strained and leaped；
leaped clear into the darkness above； to the fecundity and the
unique mystery； to the touch； the clasp； the consummation； the
climax of eternity； the apex of the arch。
She too was overe； but silenced rather than tuned to the
place。 She loved it as a world not quite her own； she resented
his transports and ecstasies。 His passion in the cathedral at
first awed her； then made her angry。 After all； there was the
sky outside； and in here； in this mysteriou