Page 471 - sons-and-lovers

and the green meadow-bank, and the elm-trees that were
spangled with gold. The river slid by in a body, utterly silent
and swift, intertwining among itself like some subtle, com-
plex creature. Clara walked moodily beside him.
‘Why,’ she asked at length, in rather a jarring tone, ‘did
you leave Miriam?’
He frowned.
‘Because I WANTED to leave her,’ he said.
‘Why?’
‘Because I didn’t want to go on with her. And I didn’t
want to marry.’
She was silent for a moment. They picked their way down
the muddy path. Drops of water fell from the elm-trees.
‘You didn’t want to marry Miriam, or you didn’t want to
marry at all?’ she asked.
‘Both,’ he answered—‘both!’
They had to manoeuvre to get to the stile, because of the
pools of water.
‘And what did she say?’ Clara asked.
‘Miriam? She said I was a baby of four, and that I always
HAD battled her off.’
Clara pondered over this for a time.
‘But you have really been going with her for some time?’
she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘And now you don’t want any more of her?’
‘No. I know it’s no good.’
She pondered again.
‘Don’t you think you’ve treated her rather badly?’ she

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