Page 299 - lady-chatterlys-lover

’I hated it. And she hated me. My God, how she hated me
before that child was born! I often think she conceived it
out of hate. Anyhow, after the child was born I left her alone.
And then came the war, and I joined up. And I didn’t come
back till I knew she was with that fellow at Stacks Gate.
He broke off, pale in the face.
’And what is the man at Stacks Gate like?’ asked Connie.
’A big baby sort of fellow, very low-mouthed. She bullies
him, and they both drink.’
’My word, if she came back!’
’My God, yes! I should just go, disappear again.’
There was a silence. The pasteboard in the fire had turned
to grey ash.
’So when you did get a woman who wanted you,’ said
Connie, ‘you got a bit too much of a good thing.’
’Ay! Seems so! Yet even then I’d rather have her than the
never-never ones: the white love of my youth, and that other
poison-smelling lily, and the rest.’
’What about the rest?’ said Connie.
’The rest? There is no rest. Only to my experience the
mass of women are like this: most of them want a man, but
don’t want the sex, but they put up with it, as part of the bar-
gain. The more old-fashioned sort just lie there like nothing
and let you go ahead. They don’t mind afterwards: then they
like you. But the actual thing itself is nothing to them, a
bit distasteful. Add most men like it that way. I hate it. But
the sly sort of women who are like that pretend they’re not.
They pretend they’re passionate and have thrills. But it’s all
cockaloopy. They make it up. Then there’s the ones that love

Lady Chatterly’s Lover