Gerald, in evening dress, sat on Birkin's bed when the other lay down, and must talk.
'Who are those two Brangwens ?' Gerald asked.
'They live in Beldover.' 'In Beldover! Who are they then ?' 'Teachers in the Grammar School.' There was a pause.
'They are!' exclaimed Gerald at length.

'I thought I had seen them before.' 'It disappoints you ?' said Birkin.
'Disappoints me! No--but how is it Hermione has them here ?' 'She knew Gudrun in London--that's the younger one, the one with the darker hair--she's an artist--does sculpture and modelling.' 'She's not a teacher in the Grammar School, then--only the other ?' 'Both--Gudrun art mistress, Ursula a class mistress.' 'And what's the father ?' 'Handicraft instructor in the schools.' 'Really!' 'Class-barriers are breaking down!' Gerald was always uneasy under the slightly jeering tone of the other.
'That their father is handicraft instructor in a school! What does it matter to me ?' Birkin laughed.

Gerald looked at his face, as it lay there laughing and bitter and indifferent on the pillow, and he could not go away.
'I don't suppose you will see very much more of Gudrun, at least.

She is a restless bird, she'll be gone in a week or two,' said Birkin.
'Where will she go ?' 'London, Paris, Rome--heaven knows.

I always expect her to sheer off to Damascus or San Francisco; she's a bird of paradise.