Page 519 - sons-and-lovers

She gave herself. He held her fast. It was a moment intense
almost to agony.
She stood letting him adore her and tremble with joy of
her. It healed her hurt pride. It healed her; it made her glad.
It made her feel erect and proud again. Her pride had been
wounded inside her. She had been cheapened. Now she ra-
diated with joy and pride again. It was her restoration and
her recognition.
Then he looked at her, his face radiant. They laughed
to each other, and he strained her to his chest. The sec-
onds ticked off, the minutes passed, and still the two stood
clasped rigid together, mouth to mouth, like a statue in one
block.
But again his fingers went seeking over her, restless,
wandering, dissatisfied. The hot blood came up wave upon
wave. She laid her head on his shoulder.
‘Come you to my room,’ he murmured.
She looked at him and shook her head, her mouth pout-
ing disconsolately, her eyes heavy with passion. He watched
her fixedly.
‘Yes!’ he said.
Again she shook her head.
‘Why not?’ he asked.
She looked at him still heavily, sorrowfully, and again
she shook her head. His eyes hardened, and he gave way.
When, later on, he was back in bed, he wondered why
she had refused to come to him openly, so that her mother
would know. At any rate, then things would have been defi-
nite. And she could have stayed with him the night, without

1 Sons and Lovers