Page 407 - lady-chatterlys-lover

flowed out of him physically, that made her feel inwardly at
ease and happy, at home. With a woman’s now alert instinct
for happiness, she registered it at once. ‘I’m happy when he’s
there!’ Not all the sunshine of Venice had given her this in-
ward expansion and warmth.
’Was it horrid for you?’ she asked as she sat opposite him
at table. He was too thin; she saw it now. His hand lay as she
knew it, with the curious loose forgottenness of a sleeping
animal. She wanted so much to take it and kiss it. But she
did not quite dare.
’People are always horrid,’ he said.
’And did you mind very much?’
’I minded, as I always shall mind. And I knew I was a
fool to mind.’
’Did you feel like a dog with a tin can tied to its tail? Clif-
ford said you felt like that.’
He looked at her. It was cruel of her at that moment: for
his pride had suffered bitterly.
’I suppose I did,’ he said.
She never knew the fierce bitterness with which he re-
sented insult.
There was a long pause.
’And did you miss me?’ she asked.
’I was glad you were out of it.’
Again there was a pause.
’But did people BELIEVE about you and me?’ she asked.
’No! I don’t think so for a moment.’
’Did Clifford?’
’I should say not. He put it off without thinking about it.

0 Lady Chatterly’s Lover