Page 235 - sons-and-lovers

‘But you’re not a BIT high,’ he remonstrated.
‘But no higher.’
He heard the fear in her voice, and desisted. Her heart
melted in hot pain when the moment came for him to
thrust her forward again. But he left her alone. She began
to breathe.
‘Won’t you really go any farther?’ he asked. ‘Should I
keep you there?’
‘No; let me go by myself,’ she answered.
He moved aside and watched her.
‘Why, you’re scarcely moving,’ he said.
She laughed slightly with shame, and in a moment got
down.
‘They say if you can swing you won’t be sea-sick,’ he said,
as he mounted again. ‘I don’t believe I should ever be sea-
sick.’
Away he went. There was something fascinating to her in
him. For the moment he was nothing but a piece of swing-
ing stuff; not a particle of him that did not swing. She could
never lose herself so, nor could her brothers. It roused a
warmth in her. It was almost as if he were a flame that had
lit a warmth in her whilst he swung in the middle air.
And gradually the intimacy with the family concen-
trated for Paul on three persons—the mother, Edgar, and
Miriam. To the mother he went for that sympathy and that
appeal which seemed to draw him out. Edgar was his very
close friend. And to Miriam he more or less condescended,
because she seemed so humble.
But the girl gradually sought him out. If he brought up

Sons and Lovers