Page 163 - lady-chatterlys-lover

pulsion. It was one of the ghastly half-truths that poison
human existence. What man in his senses would say such
things to a woman! But men aren’t in their senses. What
man with a spark of honour would put this ghastly burden
of life-responsibility upon a woman, and leave her there, in
the void?
Moreover, in half an hour’s time, Connie heard Clifford
talking to Mrs Bolton, in a hot, impulsive voice, revealing
himself in a sort of passionless passion to the woman, as if
she were half mistress, half foster-mother to him. And Mrs
Bolton was carefully dressing him in evening clothes, for
there were important business guests in the house.
Connie really sometimes felt she would die at this time.
She felt she was being crushed to death by weird lies, and
by the amazing cruelty of idiocy. Clifford’s strange busi-
ness efficiency in a way over-awed her, and his declaration
of private worship put her into a panic. There was nothing
between them. She never even touched him nowadays, and
he never touched her. He never even took her hand and held
it kindly. No, and because they were so utterly out of touch,
he tortured her with his declaration of idolatry. It was the
cruelty of utter impotence. And she felt her reason would
give way, or she would die.
She fled as much as possible to the wood. One afternoon,
as she sat brooding, watching the water bubbling coldly in
John’s Well, the keeper had strode up to her.
’I got you a key made, my Lady!’ he said, saluting, and he
offered her the key.
’Thank you so much!’ she said, startled.

1 Lady Chatterly’s Lover