Themanlayflatonhisstomachonthefloor，hisneckpressedback，wrigglingundertheengineandpokingwithhisfinger。Conniethoughtwhatapatheticsortofthingamanwas，feebleandsmall-looking，whenhewaslyingonhisbellyonthebigearth。
　　`SeemsallrightasfarasIcansee，’camehismuffledvoice。
　　`Idon’tsupposeyoucandoanything，’saidClifford。
　　`SeemsasifIcan’t!’Andhescrambledupandsatonhisheels，collierfashion。`There’scertainlynothingobviouslybroken。’
　　Cliffordstartedhisengine，thenputheringear。Shewouldnotmove。
　　`Runherabithard，like，’suggestedthekeeper。
　　Cliffordresentedtheinterference：buthemadehisenginebuzzlikeablue-bottle。Thenshecoughedandsnarledandseemedtogobetter。
　　`Soundsasifshe’dcomeclear，’saidMellors。
　　ButCliffordhadalreadyjerkedherintogear。Shegaveasicklurchandebbedweaklyforwards。
　　`IfIgiveherapush，she’lldoit，’saidthekeeper，goingbehind。
　　`Keepoff!’snappedClifford。`She’lldoitbyherself。’
　　`ButClifford!’putinConniefromthebank，`youknowit’stoomuchforher。Whyareyousoobstinate!’
　　Cliffordwaspalewithanger。Hejabbedathislevers。Thechairgaveasortofscurry，reeledonafewmoreyards，andcametoherendamidaparticularlypromisingpatchofbluebells。
　　`She’sdone!’saidthekeeper。`Notpowerenough。’
　　`She’sbeenupherebefore，’saidCliffordcoldly。
　　`Shewon’tdoitthistime，’saidthekeeper。
　　Clifforddidnotreply。Hebegandoingthingswithhisengine，runningherfastandslowasiftogetsomesortoftuneoutofher。Thewoodre-echoedwithweirdnoises。Thenheputheringearwithajerk，havingjerkedoffhisbrake。
　　`You’llripherinsideout，’murmuredthekeeper。
　　Thechairchargedinasicklurchsidewaysattheditch。
　　`Clifford!’criedConnie，rushingforward。
　　Butthekeeperhadgotthechairbytherail。Clifford，however，puttingonallhispressure，managedtosteerintotheriding，andwithastrangenoisethechairwasfightingthehill。Mellorspushedsteadilybehind，andupshewent，asiftoretrieveherself。
　　`Yousee，she’sdoingit!’saidClifford，victorious，glancingoverhisshoulder。Therehesawthekeeper’sface。
　　`Areyoupushingher？’
　　`Shewon’tdoitwithout。’
　　`Leaveheralone。Iaskedyounot。
　　`Shewon’tdoit。’
　　`Lethertry!’snarledClifford，withallhisemphasis。
　　Thekeeperstoodback：thenturnedtofetchhiscoatandgun。Thechairseemedtostrangeimmediately。Shestoodinert。Clifford，seatedaprisoner，waswhitewithvexation。Hejerkedattheleverswithhishand，hisfeetwerenogood。Hegotqueernoisesoutofher。Insavageimpatiencehemovedlittlehandlesandgotmorenoisesoutofher。Butshewouldnotbudge。
　　No，shewouldnotbudge。Hestoppedtheengineandsatrigidwithanger。
　　Constancesatonthebankaridlookedatthewretchedandtrampledbluebells。
　　`NothingquitesolovelyasanEnglishspring。’`Icandomyshareofruling。’
　　`Whatweneedtotakeupnowiswhips，notswords。’`Therulingclasses!’
　　Thekeeperstrodeupwithhiscoatandgun，Flossiecautiouslyathisheels。Cliffordaskedthemantodosomethingorothertotheengine。Connie，whounderstoodnothingatallofthetechnicalitiesofmotors，andwhohadhadexperienceofbreakdowns，satpatientlyonthebankasifshewereacipher。Thekeeperlayonhisstomachagain。Therulingclassesandtheservingclasses!
　　Hegottohisfeetandsaidpatiently：
　　`Tryheragain，then。’
　　Hespokeinaquietvoice，almostasiftoachild。
　　Cliffordtriedher，andMellorssteppedquicklybehindandbegantopush。Shewasgoing，theenginedoingabouthalfthework，themantherest。
　　Cliffordglancedround，yellowwithanger。
　　`Willyougetoffthere!’
　　Thekeeperdroppedhisholdatonce，andCliffordadded：`HowshallIknowwhatsheisdoing!’
　　Themanputhisgundownandbegantopullonhiscoat。He’ddone。
　　Thechairbeganslowlytorunbackwards。
　　`Clifford，yourbrake!’criedConnie。
　　She，Mellors，andCliffordmovedatonce，Connieandthekeeperjostlinglightly。Thechairstood。Therewasamomentofdeadsilence。
　　`It’sobviousI’mateverybody’smercy!’saidClifford。Hewasyellowwithanger。
　　Nooneanswered。Mellorswasslinginghisgunoverhisshoulder，hisfacequeerandexpressionless，saveforanabstractedlookofpatience。
　　ThedogFlossie，standingonguardalmostbetweenhermaster’slegs，moveduneasily，eyeingthechairwithgreatsuspicionanddislike，andverymuchperplexedbetweenthethreehumanbeings。Thetableauvivantremainedsetamongthesquashedbluebells，nobodyprofferingaword。
　　`Iexpectshe’llhavetobepushed，’saidCliffordatlast，withanaffectationofsangfroid。
　　Noanswer。Mellors’abstractedfacelookedasifhehadheardnothing。
　　Connieglancedanxiouslyathim。Cliffordtooglancedround。
　　`Doyoumindpushingherhome，Mellors!’hesaidinacoolsuperiortone。`IhopeIhavesaidnothingtooffendyou，’headded，inatoneofdislike。
　　`Nothingatall，SirClifford!Doyouwantmetopushthatchair？’
　　`Ifyouplease。’
　　Themansteppeduptoit：butthistimeitwaswithouteffect。Thebrakewasjammed。Theypokedandpulled，andthekeepertookoffhisgunandhiscoatoncemore。AndnowCliffordsaidneveraword。Atlastthekeeperheavedthebackofthechairoffthegroundand，withaninstantaneouspushofhisfoot，triedtoloosenthewheels。Hefailed，thechairsank。
　　Cliffordwasclutchingthesides。Themangaspedwiththeweight。
　　`Don’tdoit!’criedConnietohim。
　　`Ifyou’llpullthewheelthatway，so!’hesaidtoher，showingherhow。
　　`No!Youmustn’tliftit!You’llstrainyourself，’shesaid，flushednowwithanger。
　　Buthelookedintohereyesandnodded。Andshehadtogoandtakeholdofthewheel，ready。Heheavedandshetugged，andthechairreeled。
　　`ForGod’ssake!’criedCliffordinterror。
　　Butitwasallright，andthebrakewasoff。Thekeeperputastoneunderthewheel，andwenttositonthebank，hisheartbeatandhisfacewhitewiththeeffort，semi-conscious。
　　Connielookedathim，andalmostcriedwithanger。Therewasapauseandadeadsilence。Shesawhishandstremblingonhisthighs。
　　`Haveyouhurtyourself？’sheasked，goingtohim。
　　`No。No!’Heturnedawayalmostangrily。
　　Therewasdeadsilence。ThebackofClifford’sfairheaddidnotmove。
　　Eventhedogstoodmotionless。Theskyhadcloudedover。
　　Atlasthesighed，andblewhisnoseonhisredhandkerchief。
　　`Thatpneumoniatookalotoutofme，’hesaid。
　　Nooneanswered。ConniecalculatedtheamountofstrengthitmusthavetakentoheaveupthatchairandthebulkyClifford：toomuch，fartoomuch!Ifithadn’tkilledhim!
　　Herose，andagainpickeduphiscoat，slingingitthroughthehandleofthechair。
　　`Areyouready，then，SirClifford？’
　　`Whenyouare!’
　　Hestoopedandtookoutthescotch，thenputhisweightagainstthechair。HewaspalerthanConniehadeverseenhim：andmoreabsent。Cliffordwasaheavyman：andthehillwassteep。Conniesteppedtothekeeper’sside。
　　`I’mgoingtopushtoo!’shesaid。
　　Andshebegantoshovewithawoman’sturbulentenergyofanger。Thechairwentfaster。Cliffordlookedround。
　　`Isthatnecessary？’hesaid。
　　`Very!Doyouwanttokilltheman!Ifyou’dletthemotorworkwhileitwould——’
　　Butshedidnotfinish。Shewasalreadypanting。Sheslackenedoffalittle，foritwassurprisinglyhardwork。
　　`Ay!slower!’saidthemanatherside，withafaintsmileofhiseyes。
　　`Areyousureyou’venothurtyourself？’shesaidfiercely。
　　Heshookhishead。Shelookedathissmallish，short，alivehand，brownedbytheweather。Itwasthehandthatcaressedher。Shehadneverevenlookedatitbefore。Itseemedsostill，likehim，withacuriousinwardstillnessthatmadeherwanttoclutchit，asifshecouldnotreachit。Allhersoulsuddenlyswepttowardshim：hewassosilent，andoutofreach!Andhefelthislimbsrevive。Shovingwithhislefthand，helaidhisrightonherroundwhitewrist，softlyenfoldingherwrist，withacaress。Andtheflameofstrengthwentdownhisbackandhisloins，revivinghim。Andshebentsuddenlyandkissedhishand。MeanwhilethebackofClifford’sheadwasheldsleekandmotionless，justinfrontofthem。
　　Atthetopofthehilltheyrested，andConniewasgladtoletgo。Shehadhadfugitivedreamsoffriendshipbetweenthesetwomen：oneherhusband，theotherthefatherofherchild。Nowshesawthescreamingabsurdityofherdreams。Thetwomaleswereashostileasfireandwater。Theymutuallyexterminatedoneanother。Andsherealizedforthefirsttimewhataqueersubtlethinghateis。Forthefirsttime，shehadconsciouslyanddefinitelyhatedClifford，withvividhate：asifheoughttobeobliteratedfromthefaceoftheearth。Anditwasstrange，howfreeandfulloflifeitmadeherfeel，tohatehimandtoadmititfullytoherself——`NowI’vehatedhim，Ishallneverbeabletogoonlivingwithhim，’camethethoughtintohermind。
　　Onthelevelthekeepercouldpushthechairalone。Cliffordmadealittleconversationwithher，toshowhiscompletecomposure：aboutAuntEva，whowasatDieppe，andaboutSirMalcolm，whohadwrittentoaskwouldConniedrivewithhiminhissmallcar，toVenice，orwouldsheandHildagobytrain。
　　`I’dmuchrathergobytrain，’saidConnie。`Idon’tlikelongmotordrives，especiallywhenthere’sdust。ButIshallseewhatHildawants。’
　　`Shewillwanttodriveherowncar，andtakeyouwithher，’hesaid。
　　`Probably!——Imusthelpuphere。You’venoideahowheavythischairis。’
　　Shewenttothebackofthechair，andploddedsidebysidewiththekeeper，shovingupthepinkpath。Shedidnotcarewhosaw。
　　`Whynotletmewait，andfetchField？Heisstrongenoughforthejob，’
　　saidClifford。
　　`It’ssonear，’shepanted。
　　ButbothsheandMellorswipedthesweatfromtheirfaceswhentheycametothetop。Itwascurious，butthisbitofworktogetherhadbroughtthemmuchcloserthantheyhadbeenbefore。
　　`Thankssomuch，Mellors，’saidClifford，whentheywereatthehousedoor。`Imustgetadifferentsortofmotor，that’sall。Won’tyougotothekitchenandhaveameal？Itmustbeabouttime。’
　　`Thankyou，SirClifford。Iwasgoingtomymotherfordinnertoday，Sunday。’
　　`Asyoulike。’
　　Mellorsslungintohiscoat，lookedatConnie，saluted，andwasgone。
　　Connie，furious，wentupstairs。
　　Atlunchshecouldnotcontainherfeeling。
　　`Whyareyousoabominablyinconsiderate，Clifford？’shesaidtohim。
　　`Ofwhom？’
　　`Ofthekeeper!Ifthatiswhatyoucallrulingclasses，I’msorryforyou。’
　　`Why？’
　　`Amanwho’sbeenill，andisn’tstrong!Myword，ifIweretheservingclasses，I’dletyouwaitforservice。I’dletyouwhistle。’
　　`Iquitebelieveit。’
　　`Ifhe’dbeensittinginachairwithparalysedlegs，andbehavedasyoubehaved，whatwouldyouhavedoneforhim？’
　　`Mydearevangelist，thisconfusingofpersonsandpersonalitiesisinbadtaste。’
　　`Andyournasty，sterilewantofcommonsympathyisintheworsttasteimaginable。Noblesseoblige!Youandyourrulingclass!’
　　`Andtowhatshoulditobligeme？Tohavealotofunnecessaryemotionsaboutmygame-keeper？Irefuse。Ileaveitalltomyevangelist。’
　　`Asifheweren’tamanasmuchasyouare，myword!’
　　`Mygame-keepertoboot，andIpayhimtwopoundsaweekandgivehimahouse。’
　　`Payhim!Whatdoyouthinkyoupayfor，withtwopoundsaweekandahouse？’
　　`Hisservices。’
　　`Bah!Iwouldtellyoutokeepyourtwopoundsaweekandyourhouse。’
　　`Probablyhewouldliketo：butcan’taffordtheluxury!’
　　`You，andrule!’shesaid。`Youdon’trule，don’tflatteryourself。
　　Youhaveonlygotmorethanyourshareofthemoney，andmakepeopleworkforyoufortwopoundsaweek，orthreatenthemwithstarvation。Rule!
　　Whatdoyougiveforthofrule？Why，youredriedup!Youonlybullywithyourmoney，likeanyJeworanySchieber!’
　　`Youareveryelegantinyourspeech，LadyChatterley!’
　　`Iassureyou，youwereveryelegantaltogetheroutthereinthewood。
　　Iwasutterlyashamedofyou。Why，myfatheristentimesthehumanbeingyouare：yougentleman!’
　　HereachedandrangthebellforMrsBolton。Buthewasyellowatthegills。
　　Shewentuptoherroom，furious，sayingtoherself：`Himandbuyingpeople!Well，hedoesn’tbuyme，andthereforethere’snoneedformetostaywithhim。Deadfishofagentleman，withhiscelluloidsoul!Andhowtheytakeonein，withtheirmannersandtheirmockwistfulnessandgentleness。
　　They’vegotaboutasmuchfeelingascelluloidhas。’
　　Shemadeherplansforthenight，anddeterminedtogetCliffordoffhermind。Shedidn’twanttohatehim。Shedidn’twanttobemixedupveryintimatelywithhiminanysortoffeeling。Shewantedhimnottoknowanythingatallaboutherself：andespecially，nottoknowanythingaboutherfeelingforthekeeper。Thissquabbleofherattitudetotheservantswasanoldone。Hefoundhertoofamiliar，shefoundhimstupidlyinsentient，toughandindiarubberywhereotherpeoplewereconcerned。
　　Shewentdownstairscalmly，withherolddemurebearing，atdinner-time。
　　Hewasstillyellowatthegills：inforoneofhisliverbouts，whenhewasreallyveryqueer——HewasreadingaFrenchbook。
　　`HaveyoueverreadProust？’heaskedher。
　　`I’vetried，butheboresme。’
　　`He’sreallyveryextraordinary。’
　　`Possibly!Butheboresme：allthatsophistication!Hedoesn’thavefeelings，heonlyhasstreamsofwordsaboutfeelings。I’mtiredofself-importantmentalities。’