Page 368 - sons-and-lovers

valley was full of shadow. One tiny square of light stood
opposite at Crossleigh Bank Farm. Brightness was swim-
ming on the tops of the hills. Miriam came up slowly, her
face in her big, loose bunch of flowers, walking ankle-deep
through the scattered froth of the cowslips. Beyond her the
trees were coming into shape, all shadow.
‘Shall we go?’ she asked.
And the three turned away. They were all silent. Going
down the path they could see the light of home right across,
and on the ridge of the hill a thin dark outline with little
lights, where the colliery village touched the sky.
‘It has been nice, hasn’t it?’ he asked.
Miriam murmured assent. Clara was silent.
‘Don’t you think so?’ he persisted.
But she walked with her head up, and still did not an-
swer. He could tell by the way she moved, as if she didn’t
care, that she suffered.
At this time Paul took his mother to Lincoln. She was
bright and enthusiastic as ever, but as he sat opposite her in
the railway carriage, she seemed to look frail. He had a mo-
mentary sensation as if she were slipping away from him.
Then he wanted to get hold of her, to fasten her, almost to
chain her. He felt he must keep hold of her with his hand.
They drew near to the city. Both were at the window
looking for the cathedral.
‘There she is, mother!’ he cried.
They saw the great cathedral lying couchant above the
plain.
‘Ah!’ she exclaimed. ‘So she is!’