Page 470 - sons-and-lovers

temptation to kiss it was almost too great. But there were
other people on top of the car. It still remained to him to
kiss it. After all, he was not himself, he was some attribute
of hers, like the sunshine that fell on her.
He looked quickly away. It had been raining. The big bluff
of the Castle rock was streaked with rain, as it reared above
the flat of the town. They crossed the wide, black space of
the Midland Railway, and passed the cattle enclosure that
stood out white. Then they ran down sordid Wilford Road.
She rocked slightly to the tram’s motion, and as she
leaned against him, rocked upon him. He was a vigorous,
slender man, with exhaustless energy. His face was rough,
with rough-hewn features, like the common people’s; but
his eyes under the deep brows were so full of life that they
fascinated her. They seemed to dance, and yet they were still
trembling on the finest balance of laughter. His mouth the
same was just going to spring into a laugh of triumph, yet
did not. There was a sharp suspense about him. She bit her
lip moodily. His hand was hard clenched over hers.
They paid their two halfpennies at the turnstile and
crossed the bridge. The Trent was very full. It swept silent
and insidious under the bridge, travelling in a soft body.
There had been a great deal of rain. On the river levels were
flat gleams of flood water. The sky was grey, with glisten
of silver here and there. In Wilford churchyard the dahl-
ias were sodden with rain—wet black-crimson balls. No one
was on the path that went along the green river meadow,
along the elm-tree colonnade.
There was the faintest haze over the silvery-dark water