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some of the toughest customers as ever went down Tever-
shall pit. But let anything ail them so that you have to do
for them, and they’re babies, just big babies. Oh, there’s not
much difference in men!’
At first Mrs Bolton had thought there really was some-
thing different in a gentleman, a REAL gentleman, like Sir
Clifford. So Clifford had got a good start of her. But gradu-
ally, as she came to the bottom of him, to use her own term,
she found he was like the rest, a baby grown to man’s pro-
portions: but a baby with a queer temper and a fine manner
and power in its control, and all sorts of odd knowledge
that she had never dreamed of, with which he could still
bully her.
Connie was sometimes tempted to say to him:
’For God’s sake, don’t sink so horribly into the hands of
that woman!’ But she found she didn’t care for him enough
to say it, in the long run.
It was still their habit to spend the evening together, till
ten o’clock. Then they would talk, or read together, or go
over his manuscript. But the thrill had gone out of it. She
was bored by his manuscripts. But she still dutifully typed
them out for him. But in time Mrs Bolton would do even
that.
For Connie had suggested to Mrs Bolton that she should
learn to use a typewriter. And Mrs Bolton, always ready,
had begun at once, and practised assiduously. So now Clif-
ford would sometimes dictate a letter to her, and she would
take it down rather slowly, but correctly. And he was very
patient, spelling for her the difficult words, or the occasion-

1 Lady Chatterly’s Lover