Page 363 - sons-and-lovers

‘I shouldn’t mind swimming here,’ he said.
‘Do,’ she replied. ‘Come when you like. My brother will
be awfully pleased to talk with you. He is so quiet, because
there is no one to talk to. Do come and swim.’
Clara came up.
‘It’s a fine depth,’ she said, ‘and so clear.’
‘Yes,’ said Miss Limb.
‘Do you swim?’ said Paul. ‘Miss Limb was just saying we
could come when we liked.’
‘Of course there’s the farm-hands,’ said Miss Limb.
They talked a few moments, then went on up the wild
hill, leaving the lonely, haggard-eyed woman on the bank.
The hillside was all ripe with sunshine. It was wild and
tussocky, given over to rabbits. The three walked in silence.
Then:
‘She makes me feel uncomfortable,’ said Paul.
‘You mean Miss Limb?’ asked Miriam. ‘Yes.’
‘What’s a matter with her? Is she going dotty with being
too lonely?’
‘Yes,’ said Miriam. ‘It’s not the right sort of life for her. I
think it’s cruel to bury her there. I really ought to go and see
her more. But—she upsets me.’
‘She makes me feel sorry for her—yes, and she bothers
me,’ he said.
‘I suppose,’ blurted Clara suddenly, ‘she wants a man.’
The other two were silent for a few moments.
‘But it’s the loneliness sends her cracked,’ said Paul.
Clara did not answer, but strode on uphill. She was walk-
ing with her hand hanging, her legs swinging as she kicked

Sons and Lovers