Page 273 - lady-chatterlys-lover

you tonight. I shall wait for you at the park-gate about ten.’
He looked again direct into her eyes.
’Yes,’ she faltered.
They heard the Papp! Papp! of Clifford’s horn, tooting for
Connie. She ‘Coo-eed!’ in reply. The keeper’s face flickered
with a little grimace, and with his hand he softly brushed
her breast upwards, from underneath. She looked at him,
frightened, and started running down the hill, calling Coo-
ee! again to Clifford. The man above watched her, then
turned, grinning faintly, back into his path.
She found Clifford slowly mounting to the spring, which
was halfway up the slope of the dark larch-wood. He was
there by the time she caught him up.
’She did that all right,’ he said, referring to the chair.
Connie looked at the great grey leaves of burdock that
grew out ghostly from the edge of the larch-wood. The peo-
ple call it Robin Hood’s Rhubarb. How silent and gloomy it
seemed by the well! Yet the water bubbled so bright, won-
derful! And there were bits of eye-bright and strong blue
bugle...And there, under the bank, the yellow earth was
moving. A mole! It emerged, rowing its pink hands, and
waving its blind gimlet of a face, with the tiny pink nose-tip
uplifted.
’It seems to see with the end of its nose,’ said Connie.
’Better than with its eyes!’ he said. ‘Will you drink?’
’Will you?’
She took an enamel mug from a twig on a tree, and
stooped to fill it for him. He drank in sips. Then she stooped
again, and drank a little herself.

Lady Chatterly’s Lover