Page 351 - lady-chatterlys-lover

er of this machine. She couldn’t extricate herself all in five
minutes. She didn’t even want to.
Hilda arrived in good time on Thursday morning, in a
nimble two-seater car, with her suit-case strapped firmly
behind. She looked as demure and maidenly as ever, but she
had the same will of her own. She had the very hell of a will
of her own, as her husband had found out. But the husband
was now divorcing her.
Yes, she even made it easy for him to do that, though she
had no lover. For the time being, she was ‘off’ men. She was
very well content to be quite her own mistress: and mistress
of her two children, whom she was going to bring up ‘prop-
erly’, whatever that may mean.
Connie was only allowed a suit-case, also. But she had
sent on a trunk to her father, who was going by train. No
use taking a car to Venice. And Italy much too hot to motor
in, in July. He was going comfortably by train. He had just
come down from Scotland.
So, like a demure arcadian field-marshal, Hilda arranged
the material part of the journey. She and Connie sat in the
upstairs room, chatting.
’But Hilda!’ said Connie, a little frightened. ‘I want to
stay near here tonight. Not here: near here!’
Hilda fixed her sister with grey, inscrutable eyes. She
seemed so calm: and she was so often furious.
’Where, near here?’ she asked softly.
’Well, you know I love somebody, don’t you?’
’I gathered there was something.’
’Well he lives near here, and I want to spend this last

0 Lady Chatterly’s Lover