Page 258 - women-in-love

‘Isn’t it beautiful!’ she said softly, as if reverently.
She looked at him, as he leaned back against the faint
crystal of the lantern-light. She could see his face, although
it was a pure shadow. But it was a piece of twilight. And her
breast was keen with passion for him, he was so beautiful
in his male stillness and mystery. It was a certain pure ef-
fluence of maleness, like an aroma from his softly, firmly
moulded contours, a certain rich perfection of his presence,
that touched her with an ecstasy, a thrill of pure intoxica-
tion. She loved to look at him. For the present she did not
want to touch him, to know the further, satisfying substance
of his living body. He was purely intangible, yet so near. Her
hands lay on the paddle like slumber, she only wanted to see
him, like a crystal shadow, to feel his essential presence.
‘Yes,’ he said vaguely. ‘It is very beautiful.’
He was listening to the faint near sounds, the dropping
of water-drops from the oar-blades, the slight drumming
of the lanterns behind him, as they rubbed against one an-
other, the occasional rustling of Gudrun’s full skirt, an alien
land noise. His mind was almost submerged, he was almost
transfused, lapsed out for the first time in his life, into the
things about him. For he always kept such a keen attentive-
ness, concentrated and unyielding in himself. Now he had
let go, imperceptibly he was melting into oneness with the
whole. It was like pure, perfect sleep, his first great sleep of
life. He had been so insistent, so guarded, all his life. But
here was sleep, and peace, and perfect lapsing out.
‘Shall I row to the landing-stage?’ asked Gudrun wist-
fully.

258 Women in Love