Page 107 - sons-and-lovers

alone.
Paul loved to sleep with his mother. Sleep is still most
perfect, in spite of hygienists, when it is shared with a be-
loved. The warmth, the security and peace of soul, the utter
comfort from the touch of the other, knits the sleep, so that
it takes the body and soul completely in its healing. Paul lay
against her and slept, and got better; whilst she, always a
bad sleeper, fell later on into a profound sleep that seemed
to give her faith.
In convalescence he would sit up in bed, see the fluffy
horses feeding at the troughs in the field, scattering their
hay on the trodden yellow snow; watch the miners troop
home—small, black figures trailing slowly in gangs across
the white field. Then the night came up in dark blue vapour
from the snow.
In convalescence everything was wonderful. The snow-
flakes, suddenly arriving on the window-pane, clung there
a moment like swallows, then were gone, and a drop of wa-
ter was crawling down the glass. The snowflakes whirled
round the corner of the house, like pigeons dashing by.
Away across the valley the little black train crawled doubt-
fully over the great whiteness.
While they were so poor, the children were delighted if
they could do anything to help economically. Annie and
Paul and Arthur went out early in the morning, in summer,
looking for mushrooms, hunting through the wet grass,
from which the larks were rising, for the white-skinned,
wonderful naked bodies crouched secretly in the green.
And if they got half a pound they felt exceedingly happy:

10 Sons and Lovers