Page 338 - sons-and-lovers
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that glowed with sunset, tiny white farms standing out, the
meadows golden, the woods dark and yet luminous, tree-
tops folded over tree-tops, distinct in the distance. The
evening had cleared, and the east was tender with a magen-
ta flush under which the land lay still and rich.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she pleaded.
But he only scowled. He would rather have had it ugly
just then.
At that moment a big bull-terrier came rushing up, open-
mouthed, pranced his two paws on the youth’s shoulders,
licking his face. Paul drew back, laughing. Bill was a great
relief to him. He pushed the dog aside, but it came leaping
back.
‘Get out,’ said the lad, ‘or I’ll dot thee one.’
But the dog was not to be pushed away. So Paul had a little
battle with the creature, pitching poor Bill away from him,
who, however, only floundered tumultuously back again,
wild with joy. The two fought together, the man laughing
grudgingly, the dog grinning all over. Miriam watched
them. There was something pathetic about the man. He
wanted so badly to love, to be tender. The rough way he
bowled the dog over was really loving. Bill got up, panting
with happiness, his brown eyes rolling in his white face, and
lumbered back again. He adored Paul. The lad frowned.
‘Bill, I’ve had enough o’ thee,’ he said.
But the dog only stood with two heavy paws, that quiv-
ered with love, upon his thigh, and flickered a red tongue at
him. He drew back.
‘No,’ he said—‘no—I’ve had enough.’