`Yes,' laughed Birkin, `I think he wants to make it quite obvious to her.'
`Isn't it horrid of him!' she cried; and going out into the garden she called to the Mino:
`Stop it, don't bully.Stop hitting her.'
The stray cat vanished like a swift, invisible shadow.The Mino glanced at Ursula, then looked from her disdainfully to his master.
`Are you a bully, Mino?' Birkin asked.
The young slim cat looked at him, and slowly narrowed its eyes.Then it glanced away at the landscape, looking into the distance as if completely oblivious of the two human beings.
`Mino,' said Ursula, `I don't like you.You are a bully like all males.'
`No,' said Birkin, `he is justified.He is not a bully.He is only insisting to the poor stray that she shall acknowledge him as a sort of fate, her own fate: because you can see she is fluffy and promiscuous as the wind.
I am with him entirely.He wants superfine stability.'
`Yes, I know!' cried Ursula.`He wants his own way -- I know what your fine words work down to -- bossiness, I call it, bossiness.'
The young cat again glanced at Birkin in disdain of the noisy woman.
`I quite agree with you, Miciotto,' said Birkin to the cat.`Keep your male dignity, and your higher understanding.'
Again the Mino narrowed his eyes as if he were looking at the sun.Then, suddenly affecting to have no connection at all with the two people, he went trotting off, with assumed spontaneity and gaiety, his tail erect, his white feet blithe.
`Now he will find the belle sauvage once more, and entertain her with his superior wisdom,' laughed Birkin.
Ursula looked at the man who stood in the garden with his hair blowing and his eyes smiling ironically, and she cried:
`Oh it makes me so cross, this assumption of male superiority! And it is such a lie! One wouldn't mind if there were any justification for it.'
`The wild cat,' said Birkin, `doesn't mind.She perceives that it is justified.'
`Does she!' cried Ursula.`And tell it to the Horse Marines.'
`To them also.'
`It is just like Gerald Crich with his horse -- a lust for bullying -- a real Wille zur Macht -- so base, so petty.'
`I agree that the Wille zur Macht is a base and petty thing.But with the Mino, it is the desire to bring this female cat into a pure stable equilibrium, a transcendent and abiding rapport with the single male.Whereas without him, as you see, she is a mere stray, a fluffy sporadic bit of chaos.It is a volonte de pouvoir, if you like, a will to ability, taking pouvoir as a verb.'
`Ah --! Sophistries! It's the old Adam.'
`Oh yes.Adam kept Eve in the indestructible paradise, when he kept her single with himself, like a star in its orbit.'
`Yes -- yes --' cried Ursula, pointing her finger at him.`There you are -- a star in its orbit! A satellite -- a satellite of Mars -- that's what she is to be! There -- there -- you've given yourself away! You want a satellite, Mars and his satellite! You've said it -- you've said it --you've dished yourself!'
He stood smiling in frustration and amusement and irritation and admiration and love.She was so quick, and so lambent, like discernible fire, and so vindictive, and so rich in her dangerous flamy sensitiveness.
`I've not said it at all,' he replied, `if you will give me a chance to speak.'
`No, no!' she cried.`I won't let you speak.You've said it, a satellite, you're not going to wriggle out of it.You've said it.'
`You'll never believe now that I haven't said it,' he answered.
`I neither implied nor indicated nor mentioned a satellite, nor intended a satellite, never.'
` You prevaricator! ' she cried, in real indignation.
`Tea is ready, sir,' said the landlady from the doorway.
They both looked at her, very much as the cats had looked at them, a little while before.
`Thank you, Mrs Daykin.'
An interrupted silence fell over the two of them, a moment of breach.
`Come and have tea,' he said.
`Yes, I should love it,' she replied, gathering herself together.
They sat facing each other across the tea table.
`I did not say, nor imply, a satellite.I meant two single equal stars balanced in conjunction --'
`You gave yourself away, you gave away your little game completely,'
she cried, beginning at once to eat.He saw that she would take no further heed of his expostulation, so he began to pour the tea.
`What good things to eat!' she cried.
`Take your own sugar,' he said.
He handed her her cup.He had everything so nice, such pretty cups and plates, painted with mauve-lustre and green, also shapely bowls and glass plates, and old spoons, on a woven cloth of pale grey and black and purple.
It was very rich and fine.But Ursula could see Hermione's influence.
`Your things are so lovely!' she said, almost angrily.
`I like them.It gives me real pleasure to use things that are attractive in themselves -- pleasant things.And Mrs Daykin is good.She thinks everything is wonderful, for my sake.'
`Really,' said Ursula, `landladies are better than wives, nowadays.
They certainly care a great deal more.It is much more beautiful and complete here now, than if you were married.'
`But think of the emptiness within,' he laughed.
`No,' she said.`I am jealous that men have such perfect landladies and such beautiful lodgings.There is nothing left them to desire.'
`In the house-keeping way, we'll hope not.It is disgusting, people marrying for a home.'
