Page 259 - lady-chatterlys-lover

When awareness of the outside began to come back, she
clung to his breast, murmuring ‘My love! My love!’ And he
held her silently. And she curled on his breast, perfect.
But his silence was fathomless. His hands held her like
flowers, so still aid strange. ‘Where are you?’ she whispered
to him.
’Where are you? Speak to me! Say something to me!’
He kissed her softly, murmuring: ‘Ay, my lass!’
But she did not know what he meant, she did not know
where he was. In his silence he seemed lost to her.
’You love me, don’t you?’ she murmured.
’Ay, tha knows!’ he said. ‘But tell me!’ she pleaded.
’Ay! Ay! ‘asn’t ter felt it?’ he said dimly, but softly and
surely. And she clung close to him, closer. He was so much
more peaceful in love than she was, and she wanted him to
reassure her.
’You do love me!’ she whispered, assertive. And his hands
stroked her softly, as if she were a flower, without the quiver
of desire, but with delicate nearness. And still there haunt-
ed her a restless necessity to get a grip on love.
’Say you’ll always love me!’ she pleaded.
’Ay!’ he said, abstractedly. And she felt her questions
driving him away from her.
’Mustn’t we get up?’ he said at last.
’No!’ she said.
But she could feel his consciousness straying, listening
to the noises outside.
’It’ll be nearly dark,’ he said. And she heard the pressure
of circumstances in his voice. She kissed him, with a wom-

Lady Chatterly’s Lover