Page 518 - women-in-love

stairs,’ she said.
At once, without answering, he pulled them off again,
and stood holding them in his hand. She had thrust her
feet into slippers, and flung a loose robe round her. She was
ready. She looked at him as he stood waiting, his black coat
buttoned to the chin, his cap pulled down, his boots in his
hand. And the passionate almost hateful fascination revived
in her for a moment. It was not exhausted. His face was so
warm-looking, wide-eyed and full of newness, so perfect.
She felt old, old. She went to him heavily, to be kissed. He
kissed her quickly. She wished his warm, expressionless
beauty did not so fatally put a spell on her, compel her and
subjugate her. It was a burden upon her, that she resented,
but could not escape. Yet when she looked at his straight
man’s brows, and at his rather small, well-shaped nose, and
at his blue, indifferent eyes, she knew her passion for him
was not yet satisfied, perhaps never could be satisfied. Only
now she was weary, with an ache like nausea. She wanted
him gone.
They went downstairs quickly. It seemed they made a
prodigious noise. He followed her as, wrapped in her vivid
green wrap, she preceded him with the light. She suffered
badly with fear, lest her people should be roused. He hardly
cared. He did not care now who knew. And she hated this in
him. One MUST be cautious. One must preserve oneself.
She led the way to the kitchen. It was neat and tidy, as
the woman had left it. He looked up at the clock—twenty
minutes past five Then he sat down on a chair to put on his
boots. She waited, watching his every movement. She want-

518 Women in Love