Page 278 - lady-chatterlys-lover

bluebells.
’She’s done!’ said the keeper. ‘Not power enough.’
’She’s been up here before,’ said Clifford coldly.
’She won’t do it this time,’ said the keeper.
Clifford did not reply. He began doing things with his en-
gine, running her fast and slow as if to get some sort of tune
out of her. The wood re-echoed with weird noises. Then he
put her in gear with a jerk, having jerked off his brake.
’You’ll rip her inside out,’ murmured the keeper.
The chair charged in a sick lurch sideways at the ditch.
’Clifford!’ cried Connie, rushing forward.
But the keeper had got the chair by the rail. Clifford,
however, putting on all his pressure, managed to steer into
the riding, and with a strange noise the chair was fighting
the hill. Mellors pushed steadily behind, and up she went,
as if to retrieve herself.
’You see, she’s doing it!’ said Clifford, victorious, glanc-
ing over his shoulder. There he saw the keeper’s face.
’Are you pushing her?’
’She won’t do it without.’
’Leave her alone. I asked you not.
’She won’t do it.’
’ LET HER TRY!’ snarled Clifford, with all his emphasis.
The keeper stood back: then turned to fetch his coat and
gun. The chair seemed to strange immediately. She stood
inert. Clifford, seated a prisoner, was white with vexation.
He jerked at the levers with his hand, his feet were no good.
He got queer noises out of her. In savage impatience he
moved little handles and got more noises out of her. But she