Butitwasdifficult,theearthundertheirfeetwasamystery,buthefelthiswaybytread:hewasusedtoit。Atthegatehegaveherhiselectrictorch。`It’sabitlighterinthepark,’hesaid;`buttakeitforfearyougetoffth’path。’
Itwastrue,thereseemedaghost-glimmerofgreynessintheopenspaceofthepark。Hesuddenlydrewhertohimandwhippedhishandunderherdressagain,feelingherwarmbodywithhiswet,chillhand。
`Icoulddieforthetouchofawomanlikethee,’hesaidinhisthroat。
`Iftha’wouldstopanotherminute。’
Shefeltthesuddenforceofhiswantingheragain。
`No,Imustrun,’shesaid,alittlewildly。
`Ay,’hereplied,suddenlychanged,lettinghergo。
Sheturnedaway,andontheinstantsheturnedbacktohimsaying:`Kissme。’
Hebentoverherindistinguishableandkissedheronthelefteye。Sheheldhermouthandhesoftlykissedit,butatoncedrewaway。Hehatedmouthkisses。
`I’llcometomorrow,’shesaid,drawingaway;`ifIcan,’sheadded。
`Ay!notsolate,’herepliedoutofthedarkness。Alreadyshecouldnotseehimatall。
`Goodnight,’shesaid。
`Goodnight,yourLadyship,’hisvoice。
Shestoppedandlookedbackintothewetdark。Shecouldjustseethebulkofhim。`Whydidyousaythat?’shesaid。
`Nay,’hereplied。`Goodnightthen,run!’
Sheplungedoninthedark-greytangiblenight。Shefoundtheside-dooropen,andslippedintoherroomunseen。Assheclosedthedoorthegongsounded,butshewouldtakeherbathallthesame——shemusttakeherbath。
`ButIwon’tbelateanymore,’shesaidtoherself;`it’stooannoying。’
Thenextdayshedidnotgotothewood。ShewentinsteadwithCliffordtoUthwaite。Hecouldoccasionallygooutnowinthecar,andhadgotastrongyoungmanaschauffeur,whocouldhelphimoutofthecarifneedbe。Heparticularlywantedtoseehisgodfather,LeslieWinter,wholivedatShipleyHall,notfarfromUthwaite。Winterwasanelderlygentlemannow,wealthy,oneofthewealthycoal-ownerswhohadhadtheirhey-dayinKingEdward’stime。KingEdwardhadstayedmorethanonceatShipley,fortheshooting。Itwasahandsomeoldstuccohall,veryelegantlyappointed,forWinterwasabachelorandpridedhimselfonhisstyle;buttheplacewasbesetbycollieries。LeslieWinterwasattachedtoClifford,butpersonallydidnotentertainagreatrespectforhim,becauseofthephotographsinillustratedpapersandtheliterature。TheoldmanwasabuckoftheKingEdwardschool,whothoughtlifewaslifeandthescribblingfellowsweresomethingelse。TowardsConnietheSquirewasalwaysrathergallant;hethoughtheranattractivedemuremaidenandratherwastedonClifford,anditwasathousandpitiesshestoodnochanceofbringingforthanheirtoWragby。Hehimselfhadnoheir。
ConniewonderedwhathewouldsayifheknewthatClifford’sgame-keeperhadbeenhavingintercoursewithher,andsayingtoher`thamuncometoth’cottageonetime。’Hewoulddetestanddespiseher,forhehadcomealmosttohatetheshovingforwardoftheworkingclasses。Amanofherownclasshewouldnotmind,forConniewasgiftedfromnaturewiththisappearanceofdemure,submissivemaidenliness,andperhapsitwaspartofhernature。Wintercalledher`dearchild’andgaveheraratherlovelyminiatureofaneighteenth-centurylady,ratheragainstherwill。
ButConniewaspreoccupiedwithheraffairwiththekeeper。Afterall,MrWinter,whowasreallyagentlemanandamanoftheworld,treatedherasapersonandadiscriminatingindividual;hedidnotlumphertogetherwithalltherestofhisfemalewomanhoodinhis`thee’and`tha’。
Shedidnotgotothewoodthatdaynorthenext,northedayfollowing。
Shedidnotgosolongasshefelt,orimaginedshefelt,themanwaitingforher,wantingher。Butthefourthdayshewasterriblyunsettledanduneasy。Shestillrefusedtogotothewoodandopenherthighsoncemoretotheman。Shethoughtofallthethingsshemightdo——drivetoSheffield,payvisits,andthethoughtofallthesethingswasrepellent。Atlastshedecidedtotakeawalk,nottowardsthewood,butintheoppositedirection;
shewouldgotoMarehay,throughthelittleirongateintheothersideoftheparkfence。Itwasaquietgreydayofspring,almostwarm。Shewalkedonunheeding,absorbedinthoughtsshewasnotevenconsciousofShewasnotreallyawareofanythingoutsideher,tillshewasstartledbytheloudbarkingofthedogatMarehayFarm。MarehayFarm!ItspasturesranuptoWragbyparkfence,sotheywereneighbours,butitwassometimesinceConniehadcalled。
`Bell!’shesaidtothebigwhitebull-terrier。`Bell!haveyouforgottenme?Don’tyouknowme?’Shewasafraidofdogs,andBellstoodbackandbellowed,andshewantedtopassthroughthefarmyardontothewarrenpath。
MrsFlintappeared。ShewasawomanofConstance’sownage,hadbeenaschool-teacher,butConniesuspectedherofbeingratherafalselittlething。
`Why,it’sLadyChatterley!Why!’AndMrsFlint’seyesglowedagain,andsheflushedlikeayounggirl。`Bell,Bell。Why!barkingatLadyChatterley!
Bell!Bequiet!’Shedartedforwardandslashedatthedogwithawhiteclothsheheldinherhand,thencameforwardtoConnie。
`Sheusedtoknowme,’saidConnie,shakinghands。TheFlintswereChatterleytenants。
`OfcoursesheknowsyourLadyship!She’sjustshowingoff,’saidMrsFlint,glowingandlookingupwithasortofflushedconfusion,`butit’ssolongsinceshe’sseenyou。Idohopeyouarebetter。’
`Yesthanks,I’mallright。’
`We’vehardlyseenyouallwinter。Willyoucomeinandlookatthebaby?’
`Well!’Conniehesitated。`Justforaminute。’
MrsFlintflewwildlyintotidyup,andConniecameslowlyafterher,hesitatingintheratherdarkkitchenwherethekettlewasboilingbythefire。BackcameMrsFlint。
`Idohopeyou’llexcuseme,’shesaid。`Willyoucomeinhere?’
Theywentintotheliving-room,whereababywassittingontheraghearthrug,andthetablewasroughlysetfortea。Ayoungservant-girlbackeddownthepassage,shyandawkward。
Thebabywasaperkylittlethingofaboutayear,withredhairlikeitsfather,andcheekypale-blueeyes。Itwasagirl,andnottobedaunted。
Itsatamongcushionsandwassurroundedwithragdollsandothertoysinmodernexcess。
`Why,whatadearsheis!’saidConnie,`andhowshe’sgrown!Abiggirl!Abiggirl!’
Shehadgivenitashawlwhenitwasborn,andcelluloidducksforChristmas。
`There,Josephine!Who’sthatcometoseeyou?Who’sthis,Josephine?
LadyChatterley——youknowLadyChatterley,don’tyou?’
ThequeerpertlittlemitegazedcheekilyatConnie。Ladyshipswerestillallthesametoher。
`Come!Willyoucometome?’saidConnietothebaby。
Thebabydidn’tcareonewayoranother,soConniepickedherupandheldherinherlap。Howwarmandlovelyitwastoholdachildinone’slap,andthesoftlittlearms,theunconsciouscheekylittlelegs。
`Iwasjusthavingaroughcupofteaallbymyself。Luke’sgonetomarket,soIcanhaveitwhenIlike。Wouldyoucareforacup,LadyChatterley?
Idon’tsupposeit’swhatyou’reusedto,butifyouwould……’
Conniewould,thoughshedidn’twanttoberemindedofwhatshewasusedto。Therewasagreatrelayingofthetable,andthebestcupsbroughtandthebesttea-pot。
`Ifonlyyouwouldn’ttakeanytrouble,’saidConnie。
ButifMrsFlinttooknotrouble,wherewasthefun!SoConnieplayedwiththechildandwasamusedbyitslittlefemaledauntlessness,andgotadeepvoluptuouspleasureoutofitssoftyoungwarmth。Younglife!Andsofearless!Sofearless,becausesodefenceless。Alltheotherpeople,sonarrowwithfear!
Shehadacupoftea,whichwasratherstrong,andverygoodbreadandbutter,andbottleddamsons。MrsFlintflushedandglowedandbridledwithexcitement,asifConnieweresomegallantknight。Andtheyhadarealfemalechat,andbothofthemenjoyedit。
`It’sapoorlittletea,though,’saidMrsFlint。
`It’smuchnicerthanathome,’saidConnietruthfully。
`Oh-h!’saidMrsFlint,notbelieving,ofcourse。
ButatlastConnierose。
`Imustgo,’shesaid。`MyhusbandhasnoideawhereIam。He’llbewonderingallkindsofthings。’
`He’llneverthinkyou’rehere,’laughedMrsFlintexcitedly。`He’llbesendingthecrierround。’
`Goodbye,Josephine,’saidConnie,kissingthebabyandrufflingitsred,wispyhair。
MrsFlintinsistedonopeningthelockedandbarredfrontdoor。Connieemergedinthefarm’slittlefrontgarden,shutinbyaprivethedge。Thereweretworowsofauriculasbythepath,veryvelvetyandrich。
`Lovelyauriculas,’saidConnie。
`Recklesses,asLukecallsthem,’laughedMrsFlint。`Havesome。’
Andeagerlyshepickedthevelvetandprimroseflowers。
`Enough!Enough!’saidConnie。
Theycametothelittlegardengate。
`Whichwaywereyougoing?’askedMrsFlint。
`BytheWarren。’
`Letmesee!Ohyes,thecowsareintheginclose。Butthey’renotupyet。Butthegate’slocked,you’llhavetoclimb。’
`Icanclimb,’saidConnie。
`PerhapsIcanjustgodowntheclosewithyou。’
Theywentdownthepoor,rabbit-bittenpasture。Birdswerewhistlinginwildeveningtriumphinthewood。Amanwascallingupthelastcows,whichtrailedslowlyoverthepath-wornpasture。
`They’relate,milking,tonight,’saidMrsFlintseverely。`TheyknowLukewon’tbebacktillafterdark。’
Theycametothefence,beyondwhichtheyoungfir-woodbristleddense。
Therewasalittlegate,butitwaslocked。Inthegrassontheinsidestoodabottle,empty。
`There’sthekeeper’semptybottleforhismilk,’explainedMrsFlint。
`Webringitasfarashereforhim,andthenhefetchesithimself’
`When?’saidConnie。
`Oh,anytimehe’saround。Ofteninthemorning。Well,goodbyeLadyChatterley!Anddocomeagain。Itwassolovelyhavingyou。’
Connieclimbedthefenceintothenarrowpathbetweenthedense,bristlingyoungfirs。MrsFlintwentrunningbackacrossthepasture,inasun-bonnet,becauseshewasreallyaschoolteacher。Constancedidn’tlikethisdensenewpartofthewood;itseemedgruesomeandchoking。Shehurriedonwithherheaddown,thinkingoftheFlints’baby。Itwasadearlittlething,butitwouldbeabitbow-leggedlikeitsfather。Itshowedalready,butperhapsitwouldgrowoutofit。Howwarmandfulfillingsomehowtohaveababy,andhowMrsFlinthadshoweditoff!ShehadsomethinganyhowthatConniehadn’tgot,andapparentlycouldn’thave。Yes,MrsFlinthadflauntedhermotherhood。AndConniehadbeenjustabit,justalittlebitjealous。
Shecouldn’thelpit。
Shestartedoutofhermuse,andgavealittlecryoffear。Amanwasthere。
Itwasthekeeper。HestoodinthepathlikeBalaam’sass,barringherway。
`How’sthis?’hesaidinsurprise。
`Howdidyoucome?’shepanted。
`Howdidyou?Haveyoubeentothehut?’
`No!No!IwenttoMarehay。’
Helookedathercuriously,searchingly,andshehungherheadalittleguiltily。
`Andwereyougoingtothehutnow?’heaskedrathersternly。`No!I
mustn’t。IstayedatMarehay。NooneknowswhereIam。I’mlate。I’vegottorun。’
`Givingmetheslip,like?’hesaid,withafaintironicsmile。`No!
No。Notthat。Only——’
`Why,whatelse?’hesaid。Andhesteppeduptoherandputhisarmsaroundher。Shefeltthefrontofhisbodyterriblyneartoher,andalive。
`Oh,notnow,notnow,’shecried,tryingtopushhimaway。
`Whynot?It’sonlysixo’clock。You’vegothalfanhour。Nay!Nay!
Iwantyou。’
Heheldherfastandshefelthisurgency。Heroldinstinctwastofightforherfreedom。Butsomethingelseinherwasstrangeandinertandheavy。
Hisbodywasurgentagainsther,andshehadn’ttheheartanymoretofight。
Helookedaround。
`Come——comehere!Throughhere,’hesaid,lookingpenetratinglyintothedensefir-trees,thatwereyoungandnotmorethanhalf-grown。
Helookedbackather。Shesawhiseyes,tenseandbrilliant,fierce,notloving。Butherwillhadlefther。Astrangeweightwasonherlimbs。
Shewasgivingway。Shewasgivingup。
Heledherthroughthewallofpricklytrees,thatweredifficulttocomethrough,toaplacewherewasalittlespaceandapileofdeadboughs。
Hethrewoneortwodryonesdown,puthiscoatandwaistcoatoverthem,andshehadtoliedownthereundertheboughsofthetree,likeananimal,whilehewaited,standingthereinhisshirtandbreeches,watchingherwithhauntedeyes。Butstillhewasprovident——hemadeherlieproperly,properly。Yethebrokethebandofherunderclothes,forshedidnothelphim,onlylayinert。
Hetoohadbaredthefrontpartofhisbodyandshefelthisnakedfleshagainstherashecameintoher。Foramomenthewasstillinsideher,turgidthereandquivering。Thenashebegantomove,inthesuddenhelplessorgasm,thereawokeinhernewstrangethrillsripplinginsideher。Rippling,rippling,rippling,likeaflappingoverlappingofsoftflames,softasfeathers,runningtopointsofbrilliance,exquisite,exquisiteandmeltingherallmolteninside。Itwaslikebellsripplingupanduptoaculmination。
Shelayunconsciousofthewildlittlecriessheutteredatthelast。Butitwasovertoosoon,toosoon,andshecouldnolongerforceherownconclusionwithherownactivity。Thiswasdifferent,different。Shecoulddonothing。
Shecouldnolongerhardenandgripforherownsatisfactionuponhim。