Page 323 - lady-chatterlys-lover

He dropped his head.
’Why,’ he said at last. ‘It seems to me a wrong and bitter
thing to do, to bring a child into this world.’
’No! Don’t say it! Don’t say it!’ she pleaded. ‘I think I’m
going to have one. Say you’ll he pleased.’ She laid her hand
on his.
’I’m pleased for you to be pleased,’ he said. ‘But for me it
seems a ghastly treachery to the unborn creature.
’Ah no!’ she said, shocked. ‘Then you CAN’T ever really
want me! YOU CAN’T want me, if you feel that!’
Again he was silent, his face sullen. Outside there was
only the threshing of the rain.
’It’s not quite true!’ she whispered. ‘It’s not quite true!
There’s another truth.’ She felt he was bitter now partly
because she was leaving him, deliberately going away to
Venice. And this half pleased her.
She pulled open his clothing and uncovered his belly,
and kissed his navel. Then she laid her cheek on his bel-
ly and pressed her arm round his warm, silent loins. They
were alone in the flood.
’Tell me you want a child, in hope!’ she murmured, press-
ing her face against his belly. ‘Tell me you do!’
’Why!’ he said at last: and she felt the curious quiver of
changing consciousness and relaxation going through his
body. ‘Why I’ve thought sometimes if one but tried, here
among th’ colliers even! They’re workin’ bad now, an’ not
earnin’ much. If a man could say to ‘em: Dunna think o’
nowt but th’ money. When it comes ter WANTS, we want
but little. Let’s not live for money—’

Lady Chatterly’s Lover