She could not consider any more, what anybody would say of her or think about her.

People had passed out of her range, she was absolved.

She had fallen strange and dim, out of the sheath of the material life, as a berry falls from the only world it has ever known, down out of the sheath on to the real unknown.
Birkin was standing in the middle of the room, when she was shown in by the landlady.

He too was moved outside himself.

She saw him agitated and shaken, a frail, unsubstantial body silent like the node of some violent force, that came out from him and shook her almost into a swoon.
'You are alone ?' he said.
'Yes--Gudrun could not come.' He instantly guessed why.
And they were both seated in silence, in the terrible tension of the room.