Page 371 - sons-and-lovers

front. She had quite forgotten herself.
‘Now THIS is better than I thought it could be!’ she
cried.
But he hated it. Everywhere he followed her, brooding.
They sat together in the cathedral. They attended a little ser-
vice in the choir. She was timid.
‘I suppose it is open to anybody?’ she asked him.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Do you think they’d have the damned
cheek to send us away.’
‘Well, I’m sure,’ she exclaimed, ‘they would if they heard
your language.’
Her face seemed to shine again with joy and peace dur-
ing the service. And all the time he was wanting to rage and
smash things and cry.
Afterwards, when they were leaning over the wall, look-
ing at the town below, he blurted suddenly:
‘Why can’t a man have a YOUNG mother? What is she
old for?’
‘Well,’ his mother laughed, ‘she can scarcely help it.’
‘And why wasn’t I the oldest son? Look—they say the
young ones have the advantage—but look, THEY had the
young mother. You should have had me for your eldest
son.’
‘I didn’t arrange it,’ she remonstrated. ‘Come to consider,
you’re as much to blame as me.’
He turned on her, white, his eyes furious.
‘What are you old for!’ he said, mad with his impotence.
‘WHY can’t you walk? WHY can’t you come with me to
places?’

0 Sons and Lovers