Page 245 - lady-chatterlys-lover

She got the black tea-pot, and the tin of tea from the
mantel-shelf. She rinsed the tea-pot with hot water, and
stood a moment wondering where to empty it.
’Throw it out,’ he said, aware of her. ‘It’s clean.’
She went to the door and threw the drop of water down
the path. How lovely it was here, so still, so really woodland.
The oaks were putting out ochre yellow leaves: in the garden
the red daisies were like red plush buttons. She glanced at
the big, hollow sandstone slab of the threshold, now crossed
by so few feet.
’But it’s lovely here,’ she said. ‘Such a beautiful stillness,
everything alive and still.’
He was eating again, rather slowly and unwillingly, and
she could feel he was discouraged. She made the tea in si-
lence, and set the tea-pot on the hob, as she knew the people
did. He pushed his plate aside and went to the back place;
she heard a latch click, then he came back with cheese on a
plate, and butter.
She set the two cups on the table; there were only two.
‘Will you have a cup of tea?’ she said.
’If you like. Sugar’s in th’ cupboard, an’ there’s a little
cream jug. Milk’s in a jug in th’ pantry.’
’Shall I take your plate away?’ she asked him. He looked
up at her with a faint ironical smile.
’Why...if you like,’ he said, slowly eating bread and cheese.
She went to the back, into the pent-house scullery, where
the pump was. On the left was a door, no doubt the pantry
door. She unlatched it, and almost smiled at the place he
called a pantry; a long narrow white-washed slip of a cup-

Lady Chatterly’s Lover