Page 383 - lady-chatterlys-lover

illuminated water-fˆtes, there were dances. This was a holi-
day-place of all holiday-places. The Lido, with its acres of
sun-pinked or pyjamaed bodies, was like a strand with an
endless heap of seals come up for mating. Too many peo-
ple in the piazza, too many limbs and trunks of humanity
on the Lido, too many gondolas, too many motor-launch-
es, too many steamers, too many pigeons, too many ices,
too many cocktails, too many menservants wanting tips,
too many languages rattling, too much, too much sun, too
much smell of Venice, too many cargoes of strawberries,
too many silk shawls, too many huge, raw-beef slices of wa-
termelon on stalls: too much enjoyment, altogether far too
much enjoyment!
Connie and Hilda went around in their sunny frocks.
There were dozens of people they knew, dozens of people
knew them. Michaelis turned up like a bad penny. ‘Hullo!
Where you staying? Come and have an ice-cream or some-
thing! Come with me somewhere in my gondola.’ Even
Michaelis almost sun-burned: though sun-cooked is more
appropriate to the look of the mass of human flesh.
It was pleasant in a way. It was ALMOST enjoyment. But
anyhow, with all the cocktails, all the lying in warmish wa-
ter and sunbathing on hot sand in hot sun, jazzing with
your stomach up against some fellow in the warm nights,
cooling off with ices, it was a complete narcotic. And that
was what they all wanted, a drug: the slow water, a drug;
the sun, a drug; jazz, a drug; cigarettes, cocktails, ices, ver-
mouth. To be drugged! Enjoyment! Enjoyment!
Hilda half liked being drugged. She liked looking at

Lady Chatterly’s Lover