Page 509 - sons-and-lovers

‘Won’t you,’ she said, flushing, ‘come home for the night?
I can sleep with mother.’
He looked at her. Their eyes met.
‘What will your mother say?’ he asked.
‘She won’t mind.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Quite! ‘
‘SHALL I come?’
‘If you will.’
‘Very well.’
And they turned away. At the first stopping-place they
took the car. The wind blew fresh in their faces. The town
was dark; the tram tipped in its haste. He sat with her hand
fast in his.
‘Will your mother be gone to bed?’ he asked.
‘She may be. I hope not.’
They hurried along the silent, dark little street, the only
people out of doors. Clara quickly entered the house. He
hesitated.
He leaped up the step and was in the room. Her mother
appeared in the inner doorway, large and hostile.
‘Who have you got there?’ she asked.
‘It’s Mr. Morel; he has missed his train. I thought we
might put him up for the night, and save him a ten-mile
walk.’
‘H’m,’ exclaimed Mrs. Radford. ‘That’s your lookout!
If you’ve invited him, he’s very welcome as far as I’m con-
cerned. YOU keep the house!’
‘If you don’t like me, I’ll go away again,’ he said.

0 Sons and Lovers