Page 468 - sons-and-lovers

come?’
‘I think so,’ she replied, murmuring.
He stood before her, unable to say a word. She hid her
face from him. Again came over him the feeling that he
would lose consciousness. He set his teeth and went up-
stairs. He had done everything correctly yet, and he would
do so. All the morning things seemed a long way off, as they
do to a man under chloroform. He himself seemed under
a tight band of constraint. Then there was his other self, in
the distance, doing things, entering stuff in a ledger, and he
watched that far-off him carefully to see he made no mis-
take.
But the ache and strain of it could not go on much lon-
ger. He worked incessantly. Still it was only twelve o’clock.
As if he had nailed his clothing against the desk, he stood
there and worked, forcing every stroke out of himself. It was
a quarter to one; he could clear away. Then he ran down-
stairs.
‘You will meet me at the Fountain at two o’clock,’ he
said.
‘I can’t be there till half-past.’
‘Yes!’ he said.
She saw his dark, mad eyes.
‘I will try at a quarter past.’
And he had to be content. He went and got some din-
ner. All the time he was still under chloroform, and every
minute was stretched out indefinitely. He walked miles of
streets. Then he thought he would be late at the meeting-
place. He was at the Fountain at five past two. The torture