Page 620 - sons-and-lovers

his quietness. He came forward, limping slightly.
‘You ought to look better than this,’ she said.
‘Oh, I’m all right now.’
The three stood at a loss. She kept the two men hesitat-
ing near her.
‘Shall we go to the lodging straight off,’ said Paul, ‘or
somewhere else?’
‘We may as well go home,’ said Dawes.
Paul walked on the outside of the pavement, then Dawes,
then Clara. They made polite conversation. The sitting-
room faced the sea, whose tide, grey and shaggy, hissed not
far off.
Morel swung up the big arm-chair.
‘Sit down, Jack,’ he said.
‘I don’t want that chair,’ said Dawes.
‘Sit down!’ Morel repeated.
Clara took off her things and laid them on the couch.
She had a slight air of resentment. Lifting her hair with her
fingers, she sat down, rather aloof and composed. Paul ran
downstairs to speak to the landlady.
‘I should think you’re cold,’ said Dawes to his wife. ‘Come
nearer to the fire.’
‘Thank you, I’m quite warm,’ she answered.
She looked out of the window at the rain and at the sea.
‘When are you going back?’ she asked.
‘Well, the rooms are taken until to-morrow, so he wants
me to stop. He’s going back to-night.’
‘And then you’re thinking of going to Sheffield?’
‘Yes.’

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