Page 282 - lady-chatterlys-lover

He rose, and again picked up his coat, slinging it through
the handle of the chair.
’Are you ready, then, Sir Clifford?’
’When you are!’
He stooped and took out the scotch, then put his weight
against the chair. He was paler than Connie had ever seen
him: and more absent. Clifford was a heavy man: and the
hill was steep. Connie stepped to the keeper’s side.
’I’m going to push too!’ she said.
And she began to shove with a woman’s turbulent energy
of anger. The chair went faster. Clifford looked round.
’Is that necessary?’ he said.
’Very! Do you want to kill the man! If you’d let the motor
work while it would—’
But she did not finish. She was already panting. She
slackened off a little, for it was surprisingly hard work.
’Ay! slower!’ said the man at her side, with a faint smile
of his eyes.
’Are you sure you’ve not hurt yourself?’ she said fiercely.
He shook his head. She looked at his smallish, short, alive
hand, browned by the weather. It was the hand that caressed
her. She had never even looked at it before. It seemed so still,
like him, with a curious inward stillness that made her want
to clutch it, as if she could not reach it. All her soul sud-
denly swept towards him: he was so silent, and out of reach!
And he felt his limbs revive. Shoving with his left hand, he
laid his right on her round white wrist, softly enfolding her
wrist, with a caress. And the flame of strength went down
his back and his loins, reviving him. And she bent suddenly

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