Page 104 - lady-chatterlys-lover

really nothing positive of their own to hold, and their rule
was really a farce, not rule at all? What was the point? It was
all cold nonsense.
A sense of rebellion smouldered in Connie. What was
the good of it all? What was the good of her sacrifice, her de-
voting her life to Clifford? What was she serving, after all?
A cold spirit of vanity, that had no warm human contacts,
and that was as corrupt as any low-born Jew, in craving for
prostitution to the bitch-goddess, Success. Even Clifford’s
cool and contactless assurance that he belonged to the rul-
ing class didn’t prevent his tongue lolling out of his mouth,
as he panted after the bitch-goddess. After all, Michaelis
was really more dignified in the matter, and far, far more
successful. Really, if you looked closely at Clifford, he was a
buffoon, and a buffoon is more humiliating than a bound-
er.
As between the two men, Michaelis really had far more
use for her than Clifford had. He had even more need of her.
Any good nurse can attend to crippled legs! And as for the
heroic effort, Michaelis was a heroic rat, and Clifford was
very much of a poodle showing off.
There were people staying in the house, among them
Clifford’s Aunt Eva, Lady Bennerley. She was a thin woman
of sixty, with a red nose, a widow, and still something of
a grande DAME. She belonged to one of the best families,
and had the character to carry it off. Connie liked her, she
was so perfectly simple and frank, as far as she intended
to be frank, and superficially kind. Inside herself she was a
past-mistress in holding her own, and holding other people

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