Page 517 - sons-and-lovers

Immediately afterwards Paul heard the mother slowly
mounting the stairs. The candlelight flashed through the
cracks in his door. Her dress brushed the door, and his
heart jumped. Then it was dark, and he heard the clatter of
her latch. She was very leisurely indeed in her preparations
for sleep. After a long time it was quite still. He sat strung up
on the bed, shivering slightly. His door was an inch open.
As Clara came upstairs, he would intercept her. He waited.
All was dead silence. The clock struck two. Then he heard
a slight scrape of the fender downstairs. Now he could not
help himself. His shivering was uncontrollable. He felt he
must go or die.
He stepped off the bed, and stood a moment, shuddering.
Then he went straight to the door. He tried to step lightly.
The first stair cracked like a shot. He listened. The old wom-
an stirred in her bed. The staircase was dark. There was a
slit of light under the stair-foot door, which opened into the
kitchen. He stood a moment. Then he went on, mechani-
cally. Every step creaked, and his back was creeping, lest
the old woman’s door should open behind him up above.
He fumbled with the door at the bottom. The latch opened
with a loud clack. He went through into the kitchen, and
shut the door noisily behind him. The old woman daren’t
come now.
Then he stood, arrested. Clara was kneeling on a pile of
white underclothing on the hearthrug, her back towards
him, warming herself. She did not look round, but sat
crouching on her heels, and her rounded beautiful back was
towards him, and her face was hidden. She was warming

1 Sons and Lovers