Page 339 - lady-chatterlys-lover

ing her damp hair, and the flowers from her breasts, and
kissed her breasts, and kissed her navel, and kissed her
maiden-hair, where he left the flowers threaded. ‘They mun
stop while they will,’ he said. ‘So! There tha’rt bare again,
nowt but a bare-arsed lass an’ a bit of a Lady Jane! Now put
thy shimmy on, for tha mun go, or else Lady Chatterley’s
goin’ to be late for dinner, an’ where ‘ave yer been to my
pretty maid!’
She never knew how to answer him when he was in this
condition of the vernacular. So she dressed herself and pre-
pared to go a little ignominiously home to Wragby. Or so
she felt it: a little ignominiously home.
He would accompany her to the broad riding. His young
pheasants were all right under the shelter.
When he and she came out on to the riding, there was
Mrs Bolton faltering palely towards them.
’Oh, my Lady, we wondered if anything had happened!’
’No! Nothing has happened.’
Mrs Bolton looked into the man’s face, that was smooth
and new-looking with love. She met his half-laughing, half-
mocking eyes. He always laughed at mischance. But he
looked at her kindly.
’Evening, Mrs Bolton! Your Ladyship will be all right
now, so I can leave you. Good-night to your Ladyship!
Good-night, Mrs Bolton!’
He saluted and turned away.

Lady Chatterly’s Lover