Page 475 - sons-and-lovers

She was coming perilously down.
‘Mind!’ he warned her. He stood with his back to the
tree, waiting. ‘Come now,’ he called, opening his arms.
She let herself run. He caught her, and together they
stood watching the dark water scoop at the raw edge of the
bank. The parcel had sailed out of sight.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said.
He held her close and kissed her. There was only room
for their four feet.
‘It’s a swindle!’ he said. ‘But there’s a rut where a man has
been, so if we go on I guess we shall find the path again.’
The river slid and twined its great volume. On the other
bank cattle were feeding on the desolate flats. The cliff rose
high above Paul and Clara on their right hand. They stood
against the tree in the watery silence.
‘Let us try going forward,’ he said; and they struggled
in the red clay along the groove a man’s nailed boots had
made. They were hot and flushed. Their barkled shoes hung
heavy on their steps. At last they found the broken path. It
was littered with rubble from the water, but at any rate it
was easier. They cleaned their boots with twigs. His heart
was beating thick and fast.
Suddenly, coming on to the little level, he saw two figures
of men standing silent at the water’s edge. His heart leaped.
They were fishing. He turned and put his hand up warning-
ly to Clara. She hesitated, buttoned her coat. The two went
on together.
The fishermen turned curiously to watch the two intrud-
ers on their privacy and solitude. They had had a fire, but

Sons and Lovers