Page 444 - sons-and-lovers

not asleep, but quivering with a kind of expectancy.
‘I have never seen anything more beautiful than this,’ he
said. He held her hand fast all the time.
‘And the water singing to itself as it runs—do you love
it?’ She looked at him full of love. His eyes were very dark,
very bright.
‘Don’t you think it’s a great day?’ he asked.
She murmured her assent. She WAS happy, and he saw
it.
‘And our day—just between us,’ he said.
They lingered a little while. Then they stood up upon the
sweet thyme, and he looked down at her simply.
‘Will you come?’ he asked.
They went back to the house, hand in hand, in silence.
The chickens came scampering down the path to her. He
locked the door, and they had the little house to them-
selves.
He never forgot seeing her as she lay on the bed, when
he was unfastening his collar. First he saw only her beauty,
and was blind with it. She had the most beautiful body he
had ever imagined. He stood unable to move or speak, look-
ing at her, his face half-smiling with wonder. And then he
wanted her, but as he went forward to her, her hands lifted
in a little pleading movement, and he looked at her face,
and stopped. Her big brown eyes were watching him, still
and resigned and loving; she lay as if she had given herself
up to sacrifice: there was her body for him; but the look at
the back of her eyes, like a creature awaiting immolation,
arrested him, and all his blood fell back.