Page 545 - sons-and-lovers

Dawes were going together, but as nothing was very obvi-
ous, and Clara always a solitary person, and he seemed so
simple and innocent, it did not make much difference.
He loved the Lincolnshire coast, and she loved the sea.
In the early morning they often went out together to bathe.
The grey of the dawn, the far, desolate reaches of the fenland
smitten with winter, the sea-meadows rank with herbage,
were stark enough to rejoice his soul. As they stepped on
to the highroad from their plank bridge, and looked round
at the endless monotony of levels, the land a little darker
than the sky, the sea sounding small beyond the sandhills,
his heart filled strong with the sweeping relentlessness of
life. She loved him then. He was solitary and strong, and his
eyes had a beautiful light.
They shuddered with cold; then he raced her down the
road to the green turf bridge. She could run well. Her colour
soon came, her throat was bare, her eyes shone. He loved
her for being so luxuriously heavy, and yet so quick. Him-
self was light; she went with a beautiful rush. They grew
warm, and walked hand in hand.
A flush came into the sky, the wan moon, half-way down
the west, sank into insignificance. On the shadowy land
things began to take life, plants with great leaves became
distinct. They came through a pass in the big, cold sandhills
on to the beach. The long waste of foreshore lay moaning
under the dawn and the sea; the ocean was a flat dark strip
with a white edge. Over the gloomy sea the sky grew red.
Quickly the fire spread among the clouds and scattered
them. Crimson burned to orange, orange to dull gold, and

Sons and Lovers