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locomotives. Tevershall pit-bank was burning, had been burning for
thinking they had, even as she had fooled herself over Michaelis, that
I'm afraid I can't.'
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Why don't men and women really like one another nowadays?' Connie
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such talk.
cheerful weekend!' said Jack. 'Sounds all right, but where should we be
carrion-bodied people. 'Ye must be born again! I believe in the
never see one...why, I presume I'm cold, and really LIKE some women
freshens the whole being.
his wits and cunning, his very instincts of cunning, and when these
He sat square and well-groomed in his chair, his hair sleek and blond,
mostly in the wood, where she was really alone. She saw nobody there.
stayed firm inside her, giving to her, while she was active...wildly,
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it...almost that night she loved him, and wanted to marry him.
so forlorn and stray. Like a chip on a dreary pond, she felt. What was
ARE Lady Chatterley!--puzzled and baffled Connie at first extremely.
sit in Mrs Bolton's room, and Connie heard their lowered voices, and
Well!' he said, 'being myself HORS DE COMBAT, I don't see I've
modern of modern voices. With his uncanny lame instinct for publicity,
she had the most subtle and intimate arguments. The arguments, the
petulantly.
The only reality was nothingness, and over it a hypocrisy of words.
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Dukes refused to be drawn about Socrates.
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everything, and the paramount ridiculousness of his own position? For
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parties, and jazzed, and Charlestoned till they were ready to drop. You
little frail and quenched. Her woman's instinct sensed it.
the least.
frightened Connie, he seemed to emerge with such a swift menace. That
alone!--of the village. The miners' wives were nearly all Methodists.
Wragby, and writing his stories, and feeling sure of life, in spite of
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yet he knew that this too, in the eyes of the vast seething world, was
soul.
said. 'If we brought it up at Wragby, it would belong to us and to the
Charlie May was slightly satirical, for he had flirted a very little
run after us?' said Clifford.
still as she seemed, of the old amazon sort, not made to fit with men.
props. But Clifford only smiled a little uneasily. Everything was
his dog...a thoughtful glance. The spaniel looked at him and faintly
Do you?' she said, seating herself in her blue knitted dress, on a
Then he looked up at her with that awful appeal in his full, glowing
resentfully.
conceited. It was weird and it was nothing. This was the feeling that
was only stunned by his feeling against her...his incomprehensible
Michaelis heard they were in town, and came running with roses. 'Why,
herself into his life all the rest of her life? Nothing else?
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father was a hopeless anachronism. But wherein was he himself any
A woman wants you to like her and talk to her, and at the same time
to the pit for a blacksmith's job, I just took him back here as keeper.
a deep shudder.
how Bond-Streety he was on the outside. His isolation was a necessity
Clifford was almost morbidly sensitive about these stories. He wanted
in thyoung man's career. Yet Clifford did not hesitate. Michaelis had
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It was a blowy day soon after Hilda had gone, that Mrs Bolton said:
people, a father was an individual who enjoyed his own existence, a
themselves: only better, since they were women. And they tramped off to
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She was kind to Connie, and tried to worm into her woman's soul with
Not tired, are you?' he said.
a matter of misplaced curiosity.'
through the years? living an integrated life? There's no point in a
matter of fact, Hammond, you have a strong property instinct, and a
see a grudge against the Chatterleys peep out in her; the grudge
He saluted, and made a slight movement of the head in affirmation.
like a machine. The logical mind pretends to rule the roost, and the
what he had an air of; she was up in arms, and if he'd been Pope or
nowadays, not like when she, Ivy Bolton, was young.
about. His sort of friends are all right for him, but what are they for
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and talk to them. I don't see how they can love them WITHOUT talking,
her spine when she didn't want to jerk upright but preferred to rest
against the masters.
as Clifford; the young intellectuals of the day. They all believed in
There, there, don't you cry! Tell me what they've done to you!'...an
even Michaelis didn't.
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horror. A man needed support arid comfort. A man needed to have an
There speaks the lascivious Celt,' said Clifford.
away, and where are they? Where...Where are the snows of
his marrying would be a desertion and a betrayal of what the young ones
bottles, and women would be 'immunized'.
of family defence, with Emma. Beyond this nothing really touched him.
a bit of a broad slur, but in heavily correct English, and from having
Be as promiscuous as the rabbits!' said Hammond.
the most ancient, sordid connexions and subjections. Poets who
influenza at Wragby, Connie said she would call at the cottage.
to come to her own crisis with him. Almost she had loved him for
hostile, high-spirited wife to rule her own roost, while he went his
That winter Michaelis came for a few days. He was a young Irishman who
poor Clifford is to be pitied. For God's sake, all of you, say spiteful
ill to loose.' She had not realized till lately how ill to loose they
exactly...in fact, he wasn't at all, well, what his appearance intended
the man has no use for you at all, as far as I can see; he's entirely
houses, rows of wretched, small, begrimed, brick houses, with black
sun and warmth; it was a little greyish and sapless.
conger-eel.
They came to the house, and around to the back, where there were no
very few good fish in the sea.
place. I don't believe very intensely in fatherhood. If we had the
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She pronounced the name, as all the people did: Chat'ley.--Isn't Lady
it. But she did think it overdid itself a little. She loved being
utter it.
of his eyes were a little yellow too. He ran to liver. But Hilda was
And thus far it was a life: in the void. For the rest it was
As a matter of fact,' said the lean and freckled Tommy Dukes, who
half your force with women. You'll never really do what you should do,
The tradition of England! of this!'
but he did more than that,' said Charlie May, rather magisterially. The
matter with me.'
to Wragby; thrilled to talk to Lady Chatterley, my word, different from
Oh, but they do! I don't think since the human species was invented,
consciousness in him and her had grown together into a tangled mass,
face and broad shoulders. But his very quiet, hesitating voice, and his
with the breeding bottle, and let us poor women off.'
Clifford had insisted on a new cook, an experienced woman who had
street-rat, and revulsion came. Michaelis was the last word in what was
nothing more than what she'd got; only she wanted to get ahead with
for he had no man, and refused a woman-servant. The housekeeper's
the pits were working short time, and today they were stopped
thing was that men lagged so far behind women in the matter. They
Hilda said, to all the doctor had said, not what Michaelis had said, of
was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The
You know what I mean. You keep on for hours after I've gone off...and
of nature in a man to make money. It's nothing you do. It's no trick
apart from his as completely as if he had never existed.
With the child?' asked Connie.
got funny ways.'
had a full, down-slipping richness; but it lacked something.
trembling uncontrollably, and yet at the same time detached, aware,
never forget what they said about Ted, for he was as steady and
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little monkey, and so self-assured.
Connie went slowly home to Wragby. 'Home!'...it was a warm word to use
torture added to Hades! And Socrates started it.'
Connie fell back, let the chair go on. The day had greyed over; the
neck, that stuck out of her jumper.
finished almost before he had begun. And that forced the woman to be
what she'd got: Clifford, the stories, Wragby, the Lady-Chatterley
She came very mute, with her long, handsome face, and downcast eyes, to
And Connie felt herself released, in another world, she felt she
bruised blood, deep inside their souls and bodies. And it would need a
I suppose I can take her to the cottage?' asked Connie.
teeth, which stuck up on the hillside, under Tevershall church, and
lingered hoping. But here too she was thinner, and going unripe,
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things developed over there, and Lloyd George came to save the
one another, behind our backs! I'm the worst.'
life,' laughed Dukes. 'Real knowledge comes out of the whole corpus of
her. She was attached to Clifford. He wanted a good deal of her life
outsider, he would no doubt be grateful to be asked down to Wragby at
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was not young and playful, but curiously old, and rather obstinately
may seem to you Clifford doesn't count, but he does. When you think how
he and she, apart from that. And Connie exulted a little in this
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were not the leafy words of an effective life, young with energy and
I tell you we must...we say such spiteful things to one another, about
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same time in me.'
remembered, still remembered.
Wragby where her personality was at all revealed. Clifford had never
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Good morning!' said Connie. 'She was crying, so I just brought her
and he was not ungrateful. On the contrary, he was burningly,
her. Hardly even her most outside self responded, that at any other
easy curve, of knights riding and ladies on palfreys.
Success also, if only she would have him.
What can't go on?'
But early in 1918 Clifford was shipped home smashed, and there was no
she felt she must jump into water and swim to get away from it; a mad
where Clifford only crept a few timid paces. In his way he had
Yes, I feel something is wrong between men and women. A woman has no
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himself. And out of all the rest of Clifford's pretty wide
round stillness of the buttocks. Like hillocks of sand, the Arabs say,
reduced, personally, almost to a nonentity by the silent--You leave me
The next afternoon she went to the wood again. She followed the broad
impassable, and a quiet sort of resentment on either side. At first
He was the trembling excited sort of lover, whose crisis soon came, and
mind...exclusively.'
and exert themselves to put their goods over. But her father used
good time.'
freedom wanted, of course, the love connexion. The girls were doubtful,
sobbing.
gentle way, but Clifford felt she was hitting him on the head with a
other chair, Clifford pivoting round as she did so. He was frightened.
There were a few regular men, constants; men who had been at Cambridge
was really wonderful...and quite beautiful, in Connie's eyes. She saw
hated it, especially its thick walls. Walls! Always walls! Yet one
half-humble, half-defiant Michaelis' heels, and intimidated Clifford
were all agreeable. And it was curious how much closer the servants'
Chatterley: he thought of driving into Sheffield. The answer came,
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consider, and it was curious, there wasn't a man in the world whose
th' pit. The butty in front shouted to them all to lie down quick,
conquered the world, which was what Clifford wanted to do. Ways and
attachment, in which he could puff slowly round the park. But alone he
Oh, you're quite right!' he said, turning his head away, and looking
word, while I had him I had a husband I could never forget. He was one
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wouldn't prohibit him from running. As for Hammond, he's got a property
Jerusalem, and see if you can find a MAN.' It had been impossible to
urging her ladyship to walk out, to drive to Uthwaite, to be in the
But there are many other ways,' said Hammond, 'than the Soviet way.
looked just the same. A dog barked, and she knocked at the door, her
and set it nose-forwards to the incline that curved gently to the dark
Her breasts were rather small, and dropping pear-shaped. But they were
joining in the fray! I must say it makes one prefer Buddha, quietly
He knew just where he was with Clifford. They were two alien dogs which
Nothing perhaps. But a woman...'
Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.
candles in the hall:
Only she began to be afraid of the ghastly white tombstones, that
longed for them again! Perhaps if he'd known he might even have wished
absurd?
gleam of revengeful pride in his success.
I have to hang on with my teeth till you bring yourself off by your own
something in her. She had not been so very keen on Michaelis; till he
Try an American,' said Clifford.
in her hand, and a black smudge on her nose. She was a little, rather
private affair, and the one point on which, in her own queer, female
steps. Clifford managed to swing himself over on to the low, wheeled
experience himself, and let life take its course. As for the mot a
He was there,' said Connie, 'but he'd shot a poaching cat, and the
On a frosty morning with a little February sun, Clifford and Connie
Tommy Dukes was at Wragby, and another man, Harry Winterslow, and Jack
lifting; but Connie did the personal things, and she did them
But they said she'd no doubt squander it, perhaps in drink! So she had
find a man in the Jerusalem of the prophet, though there were thousands
restless and ill-sitting soul, wondered what he should do. It was a
been able to be altogether herself: it had been denied her. Heaven
But Clifford, while he was better bred than Connie, and more 'society',
Nothing, good morning!'
spite, ineffable and fathomless spite. Always has been so! Look at
squib. And what about you, Clifford? Do you think sex is a dynamo to
Dukes insisted she was not well, though she said she was all right.
His relatives treated her quite kindly. She knew that the kindliness
the last word, exciting, and very like the row of asterisks that can be
Since, of course, it's not your own fault you are alive. Once you are
revealing his bitter, indifferent, stray-dog's soul, then showing a
Connie and he were attached to one another, in the aloof modern way. He
calling it, after Henry James, that was a permanent necessity. You
her room, and sing: 'Touch not the nettle, for the bonds of love are
and the child sobbed louder.
She stared at him, dazed and transfixed, and he went over and kneeled
flattening and going a little harsh. It was as if it had not had enough
surface, and a foot down is frozen.
Connie was accustomed to Kensington or the Scotch hills or the Sussex
some way afraid of them, he could not bear to have them look at him now
he had become in four or five years one of the best known of the young
sweet and cold. And she drifted on without knowing where she was.
astringent.
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The man was looking at her with those blue, all-seeing eyes of his,
We're all as cold as cretins, we're all as passionless as idiots. We're
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the last of the great words, it was just a cocktail term for an
There had been no welcome home for the young squire, no festivities, no
the parts mentioned and unmentionable. The penis rouses his head and
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go...it would be gone already, like the rest of the forest. One must
There are nice women in the world,' said Connie, lifting her head up
commonplace enough, Heaven knows!
to do was to pass the porches and the portals.
came to the top of the rise he stopped; he would not risk the long and
The man lifted his hat as he stood, showing his thick, almost fair
living together of two people, who are in the habit of being in the
father always had a good Opinion of him, so when he came back, and went
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What's the matter? Why is she crying?' demanded Constance, peremptory
living together, two people fall into a sort of unison, they vibrate so
It sounds like going to have your tonsils cut,' laughed Connie. 'Will
approach of Ev'n or Morn.'
so she thought.
hate...hate of the bourgeois. That, to me, is Bolshevism.'
seemed the simplest solution of the otherwise insoluble. She wanted
got nothing but disabilities to recommend him...'
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Yet when those days of her grand joyful cheerfulness and stimulus were
trickled over and downhill. Even above the hissing boom of the
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Connie felt again the tightness, niggardliness of the men of her
mirror in the scullery, and looked at her face. Seeing it, she stamped
her one refuge, her sanctuary.
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the consciousness; out of your belly and your penis as much as out of
was roused, she would not be defeated.
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So next morning Mick was more uneasy than ever; restless, devoured,
these things so that you have an integrated life, that makes a long
No,' said Hammond. 'It's wrong. You, for example, May, you squander
she was so perfectly simple and frank, as far as she intended to be
and lead the mental life. It's the only honest thing I can do. I can be
seemed to care very much whether his stories were considered
But you're ill, child!' said Hilda, in the soft, rather breathless
she was considered a little old-fashioned and 'womanly'. She was not a
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the sense of aloneness, of a creature purely alone, overwhelmed her.
At least Bolshevism has got down to rock bottom,' said Charlie.
world. She liked the INWARDNESS of the remnant of forest, the
herself into his power. Rather she could use this sex thing to have
interesting. And she did feel the peculiar, withering coldness under it
Nevertheless he too was a rebel: rebelling even against his class. Or
way cultured...'
all the rest! On the low dark ceiling of cloud at night red blotches
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sulphur, iron, coal, or acid. And even on the Christmas roses the smuts
Connie never really understood him, but, in her way, she loved him. And
well-to-do intelligentsia, but he was aristocracy. Not the big sort,
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Clifford had been long enough in the hands of nurses; he hated them,
cheerfulness and satisfaction to stimulate Clifford, so that he wrote
Why, I'm sure 'twas very kind of you, I must say! So she was crying! I
Sometimes she wept bitterly, but even as she wept she was saying to
yet who went off just at the same moment as I did.'
what sex is to you...a vital little dynamo between you and Julia, to
had against him. Clifford and his cronies were not anti-social; they
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forward in person, and by the back doors, any worse than Clifford's way
poignantly grateful for a piece of natural, spontaneous kindness:
Connie felt there was truth in this. But she also felt that Mick was
suddenly, fixing his eyes on her with almost hypnotic power, and
The final fact being that at the very bottom of his soul he WASan
of the modern ladylike young men: rather bucolic even, with his ruddy
proper destiny. She had been fastened by a rope, and jagging and
daffs behind the keeper's cottage? They're the prettiest sight you'd
looked round the clean, tidy, rather dreary little sitting-room with
frail nakedness. Connie found it impossible to come to her crisis
kissed her sister.
up...but it's all part of the life of the mind, it's a logical
was much too hurt in himself, the great shock of his maiming, to be
even the smartest aristocrats had really nothing positive of their own
Connie only half heard this piece of novel, masculine information. She
Chapter 5
different people!
The hard air was still sulphurous, but they were both used to it. Round
of a lady.'
Poor Connie! As the years drew on it was the fear of nothingness In her
you start, you make money, and you go on; up to a point, I suppose.'
in the general, popular recoil of the young against convention and
Precisely! I have my mind: I have certain calculations to make in
ARNOLD B. HAMMOND--just like a trunk on the railway that belongs to
Poor Michaelis had been much kicked, so that he had a slightly
perhaps rebel is too strong a word; far too strong. He was only caught
Oh yes! I think I do, really.'
North gulf impassable, across which no communication could take place.
Why, isn't Lady Chatterley good to yer! My word, you're a lucky girl
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sometimes witty, and touched with a queer, sexless affection. A kind of
want to marry. I know it would be the best thing for me...marry and
speakers spoke in every civilized tongue, and no one was abashed.
enclosure, always inside. Life always a dream or a frenzy, inside an
that is.
Good morning, Sir.'
think they should come out of the earth!'
effrontery in the meagre fellow was what made men so down on Michaelis.
ridiculous, quite true. But when it came too close and oneself became
He laughed grimly: 'I want it!' he said. 'That's good! I want to hang
stars. There was Hammond, another writer. All were about the same age
curious thing that the mental life seems to flourish with its roots in
smart people was also a necessity.
She rose, a little stiff, took a few daffodils, and went down. She
But you do believe in something?'
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Chapter 7
life, and put as much across other people as they tried to put across
housemixed with the young Cambridge group, the group that stood for
bruise of the false inhuman war. It would take many years for the
And they were there, the short-stemmed flowers, rustling and fluttering
I consider this is really the heart of England,' said Clifford to
to her. And afterwards looked rather as if they had lost a shilling and
Michaelis obviously wasn't an Englishman, in spite of all the tailors,
wrong, but it won't do! It won't do! Tell Sir Clifford he's got to
in a thousand, and jolly as the day. Who'd ever have thought he'd get
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sure of himself.
very well if you were of the same class and race. Then you could keep
He's such a bounder underneath his veneer...just waiting to bounce
hold of the chair. His voice on the last words had fallen into the
intellectuals'. Where the intellect came in, Connie did not quite see.
She's a useful nonentity!' he said. Connie opened her eyes in wonder,
for a man who was purely antipathetic to me. Your rhythm wouldn't let
express sometimes without ever aiming at it; something old, old, and
I've already discussed it with her,' said Hilda.
knows why, for she was a woman who had her own income and her own way.
very different matter.--'Go ye into the streets and byways of
Socrates, in Plato, and his bunch round him! The sheer spite of it all,
you. Only life may turn quite a new face on it all.'
Oh, don't bother! let's get on with today,' said Olive. 'Only hurry up
of the house.
only appearance. It is really only the mechanism of the re-assumed
infinitely more wonderful than any sexual love. The only unfortunate
so old...endlessly old, built up of layers of disillusion, going down
it was like his fault really. So the compensation was only three
necessarily belonging to one another.
human soul needs excursions, and must not be denied them. But the point
tailors to cut their low-down customers, when the customers pay.
She glanced at him angrily. 'No wonder the child cried,' she said, 'if
smart world by Lady Bennerley. She didn't feel really smart, it wasn't
My God! '' IF THEY BE NOT NICE TO ME WHAT CARE I HOW NICE THEY BE?''
Connie guessed, however, that her father had said something, and that
She was hostess to these people...mostly men. She was hostess also to
He waited for her a long time...but she came.
Gran! Gran!'
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Why, are yer back a'ready!'
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what a ghastly thing, this youth! You felt as old as Methuselah, and
civilization is going to fall. It's going down the bottomless pit, down
tall thin fellow with a wife and two children, but much more closely
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huge mirror. She did not know what she was looking for, or at, very
suddenly married a man ten years older than herself, an elder member of
to go on after he had finished, in the wild tumult and heaving of her
all, he seemed to forget, and to have recovered all his equanimity. But
er,' he replied callously, in broad vernacular.
Yes, but where did he come from?'
Nevertheless he travelled with his manservant and his very neat car,
bring themselves off, and a chap's got to hang on. I never had a woman
more blooming, more subtly rounded, her young angularities softened,
sound; no smoke from the chimney; no dog barking.
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susceptible we are to what is expected of us! The colliers had been so
amused, and proud too, that even their talking they could not do,
Might he?' said Clifford. 'I hadn't noticed.'
was, thin, stooping a little. Yet, as she passed him, there was
interests had never ceased to flow together over his work. They talked
And she went through the days drearily. There was nothing now but this
she helped Clifford to make by his writing. That she actually helped to
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And the old woman, as soon as Connie had gone, rushed to the bit of
itself. Just look at these Midlands, if it isn't plainly written
There was something about him that Connie liked. He didn't put on airs
form of talk, where you act the words instead of saying them. I suppose
damp, his face rather pale and worn-looking. When the eyes ceased to
bounder.
and even by Dukes. Talk, talk, talk! What hell it was, the continual
Her ladyship lapsed into contemplative silence, soothed by the brandy.
edge rabbits bobbed and nibbled. Rooks suddenly rose in a black train,
wonderful display of nothingness; At the same time a display. A
I haven't the faintest idea, but something, I suppose,' said the
perforce. But with the woman he was not quite so sure.
and Connie kept her hand on the chair. In front lay the wood, the hazel
Michaelis' male passivity erect inside her. But of course he never knew
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perhaps there was nothing to get at ultimately; just a negation of
Everything seemed old and cold. And Michaelis let one down so; he was
nervous invalid in the last few months of her life, she wanted her
was nothing but a ravel of dead bracken, a thin and spindly sapling
Am I altogether a lonely bird?' he asked, with his queer grin of a
that's not the point. The point is, what sort of a time can a man give
achieve her orgasm and her crisis while he was merely her tool.
the army definitely, I've got out of the way of the world, and now I
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I think he's quite a nice fellow, but I know very little about him. He
at such an idea. She watched him in wonder. He said to her: 'May I kiss
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thrill of it, it was again nothingness. Even the prostitution to the
where your room is.'
think?...if we adapt ourselves to the necessities, and at the same time
had to sit in a wheeled chair or a sort of bath-chair. Nevertheless he
I think he has a certain sort of generosity.'
not really there for him.
Come then, shall I take you? Shall I take you to your Gran? Then your
the housekeeper noticed it, and asked her about herself Even Tommy
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Oh, in that way!...May I hold your hand for a minute?' he asked
oak-leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she
and clammy and silent, even from the shuffling of the collieries, for
If you HAVE the proper sort of emotion or sympathy with a woman, you
May I come?'
about the weather. It's just an interchange of sensations instead of
stitch in her sewing...Yes, she sat there! She had to sit mum. She had
caddish and bounderish. He was discovered to be anti-English, and to
burned and quavered, dappling and swelling and contracting, like burns
The Chatterleys, two brothers and a sister, had lived curiously
Sir Geoffrey, their father, whom they ridiculed, but whom they were so
And wouldn't you mind WHAT man's child I had?' she asked.
he said; then, with a return to the vernacular: 'but I canna tell yer.'
Wragby, her assured, bossy manner left her, and she was nervous. With
It had rained as usual, and the paths were too sodden for Clifford's
Easter lamb, rather small beside Hilda, who held the wheel. Sir Malcolm
To her it meant nothing except that she gave herself to him. And at
stiffness, for the two things often go together.
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know, and wasn't made to see. What the eye doesn't see and the mind
as if dazzled, and really feeling nothing at all. Hardly even the
Of course not. But sometimes it's intelligent to be half-witted: if
at the bottom of the hill and disappeared; but it had such a lovely
affair, and didn't much matter. No one thinks of inquiring of another
Look, Gran!' simpered the child.
A half-virgin!' replied Clifford, translating the phrase to be sure of it.
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More or less! He has a mother in the village...and a child, I
easy and flippant. He was a hurt thing. And as such Connie stuck to him
him...Englishwomen too.
surface of her mind was tickled at the glowing prospects he offered
the weather was bad, and there was only billiards, and the pianola to
women. Who's going to force me into loving or pretending to love them,
underworld had burned and given off its sulphur, it turned bright pink,
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Colliery Company, really Sir Geoffrey, saw that she could get on by
cleans up for me on Saturdays; I do the rest myself.'
Very much! And you see there's no question of kissing between us, is
up a dark, damp drive, burrowing through gloomy trees, out to the slope
from what I see of it. You're simply talking it down.'
get anywhere didn't trouble her deeply. She liked to hear what they had
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across the female of my species. And I don't miss her, I just like
something like dismay.
looked much more Irish than May, who was pale and rather fat: 'As a
district nurse.
trailed by thousands of gasping, dogs with lolling tongues. The one
freely. Clifford was much more hedgy and nervous, he got cold feet much
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In 1916 Herbert Chatterley was killed, so Clifford became heir. He was
patriotic; but, also, spending more money on his country than he'd got.
in sight. The child was already as full to the brim with tricks as a
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She's getting thin...angular. It's not her style. She's not the
for a few moments, and then she said: 'Only in a way! Not altogether,
her foot with impatience. 'Of COURSE she had to catch me in my coarse
best families, and had the character to carry it off. Connie liked her,
So they went on for quite a time, writing, and meeting occasionally in
There was a certain pathos. The wood still had some of the mystery of
leave it alone! All these endless rooms that nobody used, all the
cronies, as she called them privately to herself. She was infinitely
very different from the colliers after all, when you lathered his chin,
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had all the defence of privilege. Which is curious, but a phenomenon of
Breakfast was served in the bedrooms; Clifford never appeared before
and after all it's the mistress of the house matters most.
Where did you go?'
The man at once slung his gun over his shoulder, and came forward with
that one might touch: a body!
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Both sisters had had their love experience by the time the war came,
the simple, warm, physical contact, was he not to blame for that? He
knew there'd be something afore they got far. She's frightened of 'im,
our day.
child. And Sir Geoffrey died of chagrin.
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Michaelis wrote to Clifford about the play. Of course she knew about it
I think they ought to.'
but then I had no idea who was knocking. Nobody knocks here, and the
intense tenderness of tone. At the same time she felt in the pocket of
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And as far as the governing class made any pretensions to govern, they
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only know my own case. I like women, but I don't desire them. I like
soft and downward-slipping with a long slope. Here the life still
She blamed her husband. But as a matter of fact, it was some old
She doesn't want to, but she knows she must. Mother died of cancer,
innumerable times. Nothingness even that.
foreground, but the background was like the Midlands atmosphere, haze,
to her rather like an orchid, a bulb stuck parasitic on her tree of
she was determined to deliver her message to the fellow. She would not
only came out of the army last year, less than a year ago. From India,
What pussy, dear?'
And should you expect me to tell you?' she asked, glancing up at him
manifestation of energy, it was the bruise of the war that had been in
Connie junior by the time the game-keeper's picturesque little home was
that it had been made ridiculous at the hands of a down-at-heel Dublin
acquaintance, and nodded awkwardly to Clifford; that was all. Gulf
nothing at all.
and her expression either anxious or triumphant: the man much quieter,
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his very being that he must break off any connexion, and be loose,
I don't love them and desire them. The two things don't happen at the
grateful, he would no doubt do Clifford 'good' over there in America.
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A sense of rebellion smouldered in Connie. What was the good of it all?
far-seeing eyes. She did not like bringing him orders, and felt like
then again modest and self-effacing, almost tremulous.
This wretched place!' she said softly, looking at poor, old, lumbering
No thanks! Sir Clifford wondered if you would and she delivered her
game, they were worse than ever.
hosts, but laconically playing up to them to the required amount, and
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So they had given the gift of themselves, each to the youth with whom
Is that all then, Sir Clifford?' asked the man.
widow, and still something of a grande DAME. She belonged to one of the
than ever. Frayed! It was as if the very material you were made of was
his neck, feeling his face pressing her thighs. In all her burning
Why, whatever?' she said, hastily wiping her arm across her face as
of course, being a girl, one's whole dignity and meaning in life
upbringing. They had been taken to Paris and Florence and Rome to
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came in March, alone, driving herself in a nimble two-seater. Up the
top for a bit, and show it.
also helped him in the morning, and soon valeted him completely, even
though he always said: She turned me down!
Because that passive sort of giving himself was so obviously his only
his hand on the rail of the chair, steadying it. He looked like a free
she had departed. Otherwise there were no near relatives. The elder
there?'
the dried-up, elderly, superlatively correct female you could hardly
comfortably. It thrilled inside her body, in her womb, somewhere, till
He really reaped the fruits of the sensual satisfaction she got out of
new hope.
that's wheer it is. Seems 'e's almost a stranger to 'er, fair a
she said. He glanced at the door.
park. My God! What a place!
keeping the frost on their underside. A jay called harshly, many little
stories were curiously true to modern life, to the modern psychology,
quicker in Connie's absence, and the talk didn't run. Tommy Dukes came
getting past it. It was hopelessly and offensively nonconformist.
her. But Connie didn't mind that. The fine flower of their intimacy was
the same Cambridge group, a man with a fair amount of money, and a
The little girl clung to her grandmother's skirts and simpered.
why should we want to follow him into bed with a woman? And therein
Clifford was inviting the young man of thirty at an inauspicious moment
to what comes next. I wonder what it will really be?' said Clifford.
inside. Connie lingered, the child slipped her hand, and ran indoors.
girls grow up, though you're only a quiet little girl even now, in
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don't love women, and even hate them if they force me into a pretence
gone out of men. They had their pathetic, two-seconds spasms like
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turning downhill. It was only the new game-keeper, but he had
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derision. It was a face that changed all the time, baking.
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aware of every sound outside.
Connie's looking awfully unwell,' she said in her soft voice, fixing
These two men had not forgiven each other about the Julia flirtation.
child to rear, it would be our own, and it would carry on. Don't you
young firs, which gave way soon to the old oak wood. She followed the
Do you live here quite alone?' she asked.
outsider, and anti-social, and he accepted the fact inwardly, no matter
as the boy was laid up with influenza, somebody always seemed to have
I mind more, not having a son, when I come here, than any other time,'
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In the wood everything was motionless, the old leaves on the ground
something in Clifford's county soul recoiled. He wasn't exactly... not
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He sent a servant to ask, could he be of any service to Lady
it, until she had enough, and then suddenly it was too much. She was
vibrating thrill inside the body, a final spasm of self-assertion, like
Mongrel and bounder or not, he jumped to his own conclusions. He didn't
or two; when Mrs Betts, the housekeeper, attended to Clifford. He, as
anchor in the safe world. A man needed a wife.
your youth slip by, and you'll spend your old age, and your middle age
the weakness of their position, a sense of defencelessness, in spite
He looked up at her with the full glance that saw everything,
Disappointed of its real womanhood, it had not succeeded in becoming
him, all one fabric, but perhaps brocaded with the occasional flower of
And isn't he married?'
without even noticing her.
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perhaps they liked it really; perhaps they really liked the tossing.
his crisis was over. And there he was generous and curiously potent; he
ridiculous too...? At least people of a different class, like Connie,
hated breaking the flowers, but she wanted just one or two to go with
which she saw with such grim painfulness from the park. The bristling
apron, just making herself tea in a small crowded sitting-room.
they had had the love experience.
of fashion: a little too female, not enough like an adolescent boy. She
Will you turn the chair round and get it started? That makes it
She looked in the other mirror's reflection at her back, her waist, her
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Nowhere! He was a Tevershall boy...son of a collier, I believe.'
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stump. She was too confused to think. But in the coil of her confusion,
assert itself in a spread of fear, almost paralysis. Mentally he still
She had an idea that he would have to be a foreigner: not an
She would sift the generations of men through her sieve, and see if she
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bright and yellow. And the wood was still, stiller, but yet gusty with
substantial and vital world. Only Clifford and his books, which did not
really clear of her.
harmonious thing. And you and I can do that together...don't you
situation over here. And this surpassed even ridicule, the flippant
pace...travel and be somebody wherever you go...Darn it, every sort of
But it was not really a refuge, a sanctuary, because she had no
and motives which leaves everything in bits at the end. But it was
Ah!' he said to her fiercely, 'I'd rather you said that to me than
Quite!' said Clifford. 'But we've preserved it. Except for us it would
yet the thing fizzed somehow, and didn't let you be comfortable. A mean
His very presence was an affront to a man of society, cloak it as he
exceptional human being. People must be more or less at his level, or
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sex was merely an accident, or an adjunct, one of the curious obsolete,
wild, old England; but Sir Geoffrey's cuttings during the war had given
This was in 1920. They returned, Clifford and Constance, to his home,
this Dublin mongrel.
She pondered the other side of the question.
No,' he replied. 'You care for me. I don't believe you would ever care
yesteryear?...It's what endures through one's life that matters; my own
echoed and re-echoed at the bottom of Connie's soul: it was all flag, a
Just as much out of air and sunshine,' he said.
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definitely than ever. The beautiful pure freedom of a woman was
Then let's leave it all alone, and just be decent and simple, like
people.'
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to the man; to the amazing success in him. The bitch-goddess, as she is
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start housekeeping and married life in the rather forlorn home of the
As between the two men, Michaelis really had far more use for her than
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Clifford looked at Connie, with his pale, slightly prominent blue eyes,
is in men. It is enormously overdeveloped. All our individuality has
said Hammond.
too, repenting it.'
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nothing in it! There's nothing in popularity. There's nothing in the
the chasm. And believe me, the only bridge across the chasm will be the
that, there's damned little tie between us. We bust apart, and say
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something, though what it was, for the life of her she couldn't say. It
remoteness remained the same. He was hopeless at the very core of him,
Jerusalem...' It was not a question of love; it was a question of a
was...in the same old place outside, where the born outsiders are. He
the life of the mind. What you did apart from that was your private
But you've been here some time, haven't you?' Connie said to him.
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She went quietly in to Clifford. He thought how handsome she looked,
Michaelis, on whose name they all poured such withering contempt, as a
in her; he was always come and finished so quickly, then shrinking down
Connie, as he sat there in the dim February sunshine.
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passionately.
already he had sketched in the plot, and written the first act. For
against.
development.'
itself free, the wind, like Absalom. How cold the anemones looked,
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like two collar studs! Do you mean that sort of love? Or the
Chapter 8
Oh, but I do think we honestly like one another,' said Hammond.
gratitude to the woman for the sex experience, let their souls go out
by it all, by Clifford, by Aunt Eva, by Olive and Jack, and Winterslow,
with his hands restless in his trousers pockets. Connie had not visited
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it had any such nonsensical thing.
I believe our civilization is going to collapse,' said Aunt Eva.
faintly tawny, her limbs had a certain stillness, her body should have
aren't you?'
Oh, I don't think it's my doing,' said Connie.
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very much.'
he could mock at everything more becomingly in uniform.
Perhaps she'll float off into space altogether,' said Dukes.
love, marriage, Michaelis: So that's THAT! And when one died, the last
was not very tall, a bit Scottish and short; but she had a certain
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But isn't there a difference?'
passion for making a display. Sexually they were passionless, even
Sir Clifford!' he said, 'won't he...won't he be...?' She paused a
And enough to give her a subtle sort of self-assurance, something blind
But now Connie was thin and earthy-looking, with a scraggy, yellowish
never been primarily out for money, though he made it where he could,
begin to simmer; and if he goes on, you are soon at boiling
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drawing-room. There's a place for all these things.'
Why did you run to open?' asked Clifford in his quiet, calm voice,
belonging to the tree. They were the hosts of fallen leaves of a life
bludgeon.
was alert. But the paralysis, the bruise of the too-great shock, was
And she thought, as she had thought so often, what a frail, easily
She let them be kindly and disdainful, she let them feel they had no
almost beautiful, in her shyness, and he took command of the situation
A demi-vierge!' replied Connie vaguely. 'Why? Why not?'
Yet the village sympathized with Clifford and Connie in the abstract.
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extraordinary and peculiar. But there was no touch, no actual contact.
moment, but a man who should beget a child on one...wait! wait! it's a
Connie sat and listened in a sort of wonder, and a sort of fear. She
to draw it thirty shillings a week. Yes, she had to go every Monday
emotions are also so decidedly bourgeois that you have to invent a man
nothing at all. He remained for a moment still, with his hat in his
it! said her father. Twelve hundred pounds last year! was the retort
concerned. So there you are! But don't take me as a general example,
Connie paused. Did she? It was just possible. Yet the unscrupulousness
you? If I were you I should think it wasn't good enough. You'll let
till the money began to flow from the invisible; it was a question of
clergyman wore was enough to obscure entirely the fact that he was a
to him. It...it...it!
stranger, and I don't think they're two as'd hit it off very easy. He's
infinite small analysis of people and motives, and results, characters
Not at all! You can marry.'
Our hearts in kindred something-or-other'--
Having suffered so much, the capacity for suffering had to some extent
unfinished, incomplete!
Wragby Hall, the family 'seat'. His father had died, Clifford was now a
Then, when all the people went, it was no better. She continued
was fulfilled before they knew what a promise it was.
was not 'working', and she was there, he talked, always talked;
disabled he is...'
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were ridiculous AB OVO, not because of toffee or Tommies.
isn't quite defined. It is Capitalism, among other things. Feelings and
Well,' stammered Clifford, 'even then I don't suppose I have much
going away again. She knocked softly, no one came. She knocked again,
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need women sometimes. I refuse to make a mountain of it, and I refuse
She went quietly round to the back, where the bank rose up; she had an
were earnest about something. They believed in something.
No, my fine fellow, I don't believe in it at all!'
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And he soon became rather superb, somewhat lordly with the nurse. She
rather like puppies tearing the sofa cushions to bits; except that it
business...the half-virgin state of her affairs. But he could not bring
this juncture, when the rest of the smart world was cutting him. Being
grass, where the two great wild beech-trees stood, on the flat in front
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losing their warmth. But a pallor of isolation came over him, she was
almost famous, and his books brought him in a thousand pounds. His
fear and horror coming up, and spreading in him. For a time it had been
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on leave. They had a month's honeymoon. Then he went back to Flanders:
The keeper, waiting at attention to be dismissed, watched everything
She was silent. Logic might be unanswerable because it was so
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felt he noted everything. As he pushed the chair up the steepish rise
Christmas of 1914 both their German young men were dead: whereupon the
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painted his pictures with his penis...he did too, lovely pictures! I
Oh, well, I like to run sometimes!'
feel shy. She bent her head to him shyly, and he changed his hat to his
All right. The fact that things ought to be something else than what
lips. He was rather frail really. Curiously full of vitality, but a
of the eighteenth century, and added on to, till it was a warren of a
looked at her, with his full, searching, hazel look.
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Constance, his wife, was a ruddy, country-looking girl with soft brown
and the thresh-thresh of their hob-nailed pit-boots as they trailed
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would be wonderful to be intelligent: then one would be alive in all
before he had really finished his. And he roused a certain craving
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his mind, and of his NOT being a time-server. None the less, he did
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let it be to a bitch-goddess! One could always despise her even while
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there just now. You want sun! You want life! Why, you're wasting away!
crime. He was cut dead, and his corpse thrown into the refuse can.
row, quite select for Tevershall. They found a rather good-looking
What could she do but leave it alone? So she left it alone. Miss
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He was a man in dark green velveteens and gaiters...the old style, with
had had what might be called an aesthetically unconventional
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But I'm NOT an invalid, and I will NOT have a manservant,' said
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business, money and fame, such as it was...she wanted to go ahead with
mother, father, husband, all these great, dynamic words were half dead
great success. Even Connie was thrilled...thrilled to what bit of
man, and this Clifford did not give her; could not. There were
married or not. You can keep the purity and integrity of your mind, but
Towards whom?'
He found an opportunity to say to her, as they were lighting the
frankly about himself, quite frankly, without affectation, simply
since, till now it was getting a bit much for her; she needed something
Would you care to sit down?' he asked, presuming she would not. The
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Hilda posted off to Dr Shardlow, and on the following Sunday Mrs Bolton
with her. It was the terrible year 1917, and they were intimate as two
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wretched. So, if civilization is any good, it has to help us to forget
Then he was pronounced a cure, and could return to life again, with the
gradually spreading in his affective self.
the sex-thrill as a sensation, and remained free. Whereas the men, in
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by without looking at them, and they stared as if she were a walking
Clifford was really clever at that slightly humorous analysis of people
important. And the men were so humble and craving. Why couldn't a girl
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see how inordinately strong the craving for self-assertion and success
She went softly, and in half an hour she came softly again. She was
The old woman looked down at the sixpence in the little girl's hand.
once well-known R. A., old Sir Malcolm Reid. Her mother had been one of
working up the sex game?'
Clifford started the little engine, the man carefully turned the chair,
But we needn't let Clifford know, need we?' she pleaded. 'It would
preserve some of the old England!'
and personalities, till now she had had enough. For years she had loved
But don't you think there is something special about him?' she asked.
competent, and she soon knew how to have him in her power. He wasn't so
man, and fairly sure to come.'
that bonny, didn't she now? But she's been failing all winter! Oh, it's
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said.
compressed mouth; that momentary but revealed immobility, an
I do think sufficient civilization ought to eliminate a lot of the
Ted Bolton was twenty-eight when lie was killed in an explosion down
corner of the house, and hurried away to the wood. In spite of herself,
Of physical life they lived very little. She had to superintend the
compassion, on the defenceless nape of his neck, and he trembled, with
Oh, you'd no right t'ave bothered, Lady Chatterley, I'm sure! I'm sure
full eyes, and the strong queerly-arched brows, the immobile,
the village. Then she hardened herself to it, and it became a sort of
Clifford? Was the way the poor outsider had shoved and bounced himself
Strangeways wanted children, and she didn't.
It was a queer mixture of feelings the woman showed as she talked. She
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Why?' asked Connie.
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The chair waited at the top of the pink path. Clifford looked round for
gone, quite gone, and she was depressed and irritable, how Clifford
endless spinning of webs of yarn, of the minutiae of consciousness,
strong in their frailty!
felt somehow the strong, other vibration of the working people almost
human, and have a heart and a penis if one is going to escape being
of the curious impersonality of his desire for a son.
persistently, and she had to respond with all her might. It was as if
No, I don't hate you,' she said. 'I think you're nice.'
with me disastrously. In the same way starved sex interferes with me.
His hold on life was marvellous. He didn't die, and the bits seemed to
what I've got for you!'
Clifford she was shy, almost frightened, and silent. He liked that, and
followed by other yes's and no's! Like the straying of butterflies.
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For the first week or so, Mrs Bolton, however, was very quiet at
rest you can get along without, at a pinch. But not money.
Apparently Mrs Betts had thought of her. Mrs Bolton was just retiring
Now she and Michaelis sit on opposite sides of the fire and talked. She
cried miserably.
intimacy, formed through years of suffering and patience. Perhaps the
extend to her her female and professional protection. She was always
bothered!'
His manner was so perfectly easy and good, she stepped over the
little, sharp woman for a mother!
forte, nor Connie's; so she glowered, and he was much more
It's very pleasant up here,' he said, with his queer smile, as if it
hundred pounds, and they made out as if it was more of a gift than
weave the adaptation together into a piece with our steadily-lived
to crippled legs! And as for the heroic effort, Michaelis was a heroic
bounder! How much more bounderish and assertive Clifford looked! How
Now she was here she felt a little shy of the man, with his curious
Was it just that? She was to be content to weave a steady life with
together? Don't you think one can just subordinate the sex thing to the
Winterslow.
Since Michaelis, she had made up her mind she wanted nothing. That
in the nation: people who know what they're talking about, or talk as
He looked at her steadily, with his full, pale-blue eyes.
knight who had done himself well all his life, and her eyes, her big,
stupid, and he waited. He had an air of aplomb, but Hilda didn't care
Both sisters lived in their father's, really their mother's, Kensington
Robin Hood hunted, and this riding was an old, old thoroughfare coming
so deep as to be numb, as it were non-existent. Now slowly it began to
And when the wind was that way, which was often, the house was full of
child rebels one day you'll have yourself to thank!'
drove up in Leiver's cab to Wragby with two trunks. Hilda had talks
he does. Me give myself away! Ha! Ha!' he laughed hollowly, cynically,
I do! this is the old England, the heart of it; and I intend to keep
the house was dug and kept very tidy. The door was shut.
bossed the sick colliers for a good many years, had a very good opinion
better with a woman's backing. That's why you're so jealous. That's
Very well, Sir Clifford.'
woman had to yield him what he wanted, or like a child he would
believe.'
glove. Why don't we marry? Do you see any reason why we shouldn't?'
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the common colliers' wives! She said so in so many words. Yet one could
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have them they hate you again, for some other reason. Or for no reason
Well, you've got them all,' said Berry.
put it.
he said the same, when the two men were alone: 'I'm afraid it doesn't
report of a gun not far off startled and angered her.
In the actual sex-thrill within the body, the sisters nearly succumbed
detachment, yet a certain warmth. But why was he so aloof, apart?
Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Sufficient unto the moment
become known: known, that is, to the vast amorphous world he did not
the brown leaves of autumn, and picking the primroses of spring. But it
My dear man, it allows the material premiss; so does the pure
up, and her condolence.
messy, in spite of his stars.
refreshing for everybody.'
got used to them. And in the morning it rained.
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loins, while he heroically kept himself up, and present in her, with
wore the careful Bond Street neckties just as before, and from the top
Connie always had a foreboding of the hopelessness of her affair with
Come away with me! Come to Africa! Oh, hang Sir Clifford! Chuck him,
And so with most of the matters of ordinary life...how you make your
could drive himself slowly round the garden and into the line
Instead of ripening its firm, down-running curves, her body was
fall into fits of vacant depression. It was the wound to his psyche
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withdrawn into himself, and obstinately determined to save his country
What is your name?' she said playfully to the child. 'Won't you tell
Clifford Chatterley was more upper-class than Connie. Connie was
Clifford rarely talked much at these times. He never held forth; his
went for a walk across the park to the wood. That is, Clifford chuffed
and wrestled in the throes of composition, and felt as if something
ponderously, heeding nothing, not even noticing where she was. The
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nonsense. What was really good was what actually caught on. It was no
sideways, downwards, with that strange immobility of an old race that
Connie gazed at Clifford contemplatively. She saw in him the peculiar
Michaelis arrived duly, in a very neat car, with a chauffeur and a
SHOULD say Yes!--who can tell?
But now something roused...'Pale beyond porch and portal'...the thing
Turning the corner, she saw two figures in the drive beyond her: the
to pretty few in most personal experience. There's lots of good fish in
Clifford had quite a number of friends, acquaintances really, and he
There, exactly!' he said, turning to her in a sudden flash. 'There's
it killed him. Then at the inquiry, on the masters' side they said Ted
with a fine mind such as yours. Too much of it goes the other way.'
pure mental work, nothing but jot down a few ideas. And yet I neither
Suddenly she hated it with a rushing fury, the swindle!
for him. You'll see he'll be an English Man of Letters before he's
when I begin saying what a fine fellow Clifford is, etc., etc., then
criticize, and make a deadness. I say ALL they can do. It is vastly
lose her power to see him detached from herself.
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now Clifford had got his game-keeper again.
important. My God, the world needs criticizing today...criticizing to
a dark river. Connie felt a sudden, strange leap of sympathy for him, a
Chatterley name alive while he could.
it all. Love, sex, all that sort of stuff, just water-ices! Lick it up
Shudders of subsiding sobs.
Chatterleys, had put there. There was no other standard. There was no
had already made a large fortune by his plays in America. He had been
I don't think we're altogether so spiteful,' protested Clifford.
a grisly kind of horror. She felt the time not far off when she would
He roused in the woman a wild sort of compassion and yearning, and a
No, you'd better come along in case she sticks. The engine isn't
active.
connexions we make in our lives that matter so very much. They pass
Again he looked into her eyes, with that calm, searching detached
Connie considered this. 'It isn't true,' she said. 'Men can love women
was looking towards them with lifted nose, making a soft, fluffy bark.
It's the...it's the...pussy!'
immobility, a timelessness which the Buddha aims at, and which Negroes
pavement, along with the rest of the failures.
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But Connie's heart simply stood still at the thought of abandoning
know.'
brutality. She felt so innocent.
He spoke it almost in a brilliancy of triumph, and Connie looked at him
of the hideous false teeth of tombstones on the hill affected her with
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live and learn.
On the far side of his supreme prostitution to the bitch-goddess he
did not know if he was right or not. There was Michaelis, whom she
some really clever young man by the hour, resuming day after day for
Without the spots, of course!' said Clifford.
How?'
And was he a collier himself?'
photograph appeared everywhere. There was a bust of him in one of the
men were like that. But it does them no good, they have to fall back
an adventure. But how could she know what she would feel next year? How
It was just restlessness. She would rush off across the park, abandon
Connie did a mild form of war-work, and consorted with the
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colliers. Gulf impassable, breach indescribable, such as is perhaps
The roaring and swaying was overhead, only cold currents came down
Constance sat down with her back to a young pine-tree, that wayed
she were demi-vierge or demi-monde, so long as he didn't absolutely
life matters to me, in its long continuance and development. But what
frenzy of her achieving her own orgasmic satisfaction from his hard,
colliery to shove them into the war; and himself being so safe and
pretending to read; or to sew feebly, and hardly going out at all.
Still he was ambitious. He had taken to writing stories; curious, very
a sort of amazement, that looked like thrill; and underneath feeling
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This stubborn, instinctive--We think ourselves as good as you, if you
Hopelessly pure! What do you say, Hildebrand, my chicken?'
Connie was aware, however, of a growing restlessness. Out of her
Who is your game-keeper?' Connie asked at lunch.
scene, the man did not respect her.
met her overtures; the curiously offensive tinge of--Oh dear me! I AM
Clifford was making strides into fame, and even money. People came to
one prostituted oneself to her, which was good.
wouldn't let her have the money down; she wanted to have a little shop.
Clifford, of course, had still many childish taboos and fetishes. He
and--above all--to say what they liked. It was the talk that mattered
But why are you such a lonely bird?' Connie asked him; and again he
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Mellors! You saw him,' said Clifford.
crude raw phenomena rather than human beings along with him. He was in
to? After all, do these temporary excitements matter? Isn't the whole
of the 'really good' men just missed the bus. After all you only lived
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This little speech, at the moment, was one of the shocks of her life.
Good morning! it was kind of you to push the chair up that hill...I
that is ineffectual.
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writing'; so she put it to herself. Make money! Make it! Out of
done. A.B.C. from top to toe. Then there's me. I'm nothing. Just a
now, as the years went by, slowly, slowly, Connie felt the bruise of
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He was a more excited lover that night, with his strange, small boy's
keeper, and a little girl in a purple coat and moleskin cap, crying.
Oh, when people begin to talk about real women, I give up,' said
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plodding on, but exasperation and irritation had got hold of her lower
almost to love. The outsider! The outsider! And they called him a
But you want me to go on, to get my own satisfaction?' she said.
intricately to one another. That's the real secret of marriage, not
A man with a gun strode swiftly, softly out after the dog, facing their
him in the night...and he had not known where to find her.
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a lonely bird yourself?' Connie, a little startled, thought about it
more sense, and a woman needn't be dragged down by her FUNCTIONS.'
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hard, it is. Poor Sir Clifford! Eh, that war, it's a lot to answer
I agree with you, Socrates gave the critical activity a grand start,
a bit lighter, there was such a lot of traipsing around if you were a
Spirits!' said Jack, drinking his whisky and soda.
passion in her, with his little boy's nakedness and softness; she had
Something echoed inside Connie: 'Give me the democracy of touch, the
never coming forth to them for a moment. Connie felt he must have
Stacks Gate. Connie had stood and looked, it was a breach in the pure
a queer, quick little motion, lifting his slender white arms, and
of the bitch-goddess.
of the family had stood for.
his own class. He stood his ground, without any attempt at
really necessary. Though Connie did want children: if only to fortify
Connie knew he was right, really. Yet it left her feeling so forlorn,
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he was shy and nervous of all that other big world which consists of
Jolly good thing too!' she said. 'Then a woman can live her own life.'
an emptiness, an indifference to everything gradually spread in her
invited them to Wragby. He invited all sorts of people, critics and
He thought for a moment, then flushed very red. He was angry and
carried Connie and Clifford away, was one of the supreme moments of
Clifford had. He had even more need of her. Any good nurse can attend
blond hair, his reddish full face inscrutable.
cleared space was lush and cold and dismal.
the bitch-goddess. After all, Michaelis was really more dignified in
stories, peacefully, and without any mental fireworks. No, there's
But it'll come, in time, when we've shoved the cerebral stone away a
the broad sound of the vernacular: 'Good mornin' to your Ladyship!'
Money!' he said. 'Money is a sort of instinct. It's a sort of property
snarring like a boat at its moorings; now she was loose and adrift.
at all. She was quiet and vague, she had no contact with them and
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with his plays. He had caught the public. And he had thought the
when the emotional soul receives a wounding shock, which does not kill
He gave the wry, quick hiss of a laugh.
Connie and Clifford came home to Wragby in the autumn of 1920. Miss
will find me a Turk or something...something nearer to the Oriental.'
Imagine if we floated like tobacco smoke,' said Connie.
really strong enough for the uphill work.' The man glanced round for
her whole soul and body and sex had to rouse up and pass into theme
you lived even another ten minutes, you wanted a few more sous for
was like a lost thing. He needed Connie to be there, to assure him he
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laughed to herself.
us.'
unless you could frighten them a little. But again she had no contact.
Thanks, then, for the help, Mellors,' said Clifford casually, as he
connexions. A sense of isolation intensified the family tie, a sense of
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track, and the hammering grew nearer, in the silence of the windy wood,
non-existence. Wragby was there, the servants...but spectral, not
since she was really outside of it, and since she had grown numb to the
other things. And they had had a good time there. They lived freely
properly pivoted that way...and so must I be chained in a kennel like a
preaching and praying concern.
I? What am I doing but talking perfectly sincerely to a woman at this
across country. But now, of course, it was only a riding through the
They had been sent to Dresden at the age of fifteen, for music among
Not at all,' said Dukes; 'the top of you's by no means HORS DE COMBAT.
of twenty-two, who had hurried home from Bonn, where he was studying
somehow bear. Was she fit, anyhow?
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was triumph. The bitch-goddess! Well, if one had to prostitute oneself,
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indeed. But, knowing what torture poor Clifford would feel at the
almost hysterically: and whether he was more anxious out of vanity for
beside her, and took her two feet close in his two hands, and buried
I only called with a message from Sir Clifford,' she said in her soft,
himself at once.
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essays. She lived with him in a smallish house in Westminster, and
wanted. They wanted, both of them, to make a real display...a man's own
of the consciousness itself was going to go wrong, then what was one to
Time went on as the clock does, half past eight instead of half past
smoke or babies in bottles.'
without them.
Michaelis was disgusted. Hilda didn't like Michaelis, but she ALMOST
Would you like to come with me to the cottage, to your Gran, dear?'
But then Mick wasn't trying to do anything, but just get through his
Little gusts of sunshine blew, strangely bright, and lit up the
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conventionalized sweetness suitable. More violent sobs, self-conscious.
quite happy TALKING to women; but it's all pure, hopelessly pure.
hated her admitting she had attended so closely to such talk.
smile, as if he had toothache; it was so wry, and his eyes were so
and keep her children. So she was assistant at Uthwaite hospital, just
Good morning!' said Connie.
Well, there it was: fated like the rest of things! It was rather awful,
She felt a terrible appeal coming to her from him, that made her almost
Why, exactly! So I should be if he began to urinate in a corner of my
nothingness. It was the last bit of passion left in these men: the
But wait! wait! Next winter she would get Clifford to London; the
of Michaelis had a certain fascination for her. He went whole lengths
hypocrites. The Russians are Bolshevists without hypocrisy.'
the spontaneous spite to the concocted sugaries; now they ARE poison;
The gay excitement had gone out of the war...dead. Too much death and
I should have thought sexual indigestion from surfeit would have
again this time, somebody was going to display him, and to advantage.
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bodily they were non-existent to one another, and neither could bear to
intellectuals in the world. Damned everybodies, as far as that goes,
But then she soon learnt to hold him, to keep him there inside her when
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was never really warm, nor even kind, only thoughtful, considerate, in
and contemptuous; one could no longer afford to be friendly. In fact he
Lady Chatterley!' he said. 'Will you come in?'
about his naked body: as children are naked. His defences were all in
Connie turned to the child, a ruddy, black-haired thing of nine or ten.
says: How do you do?--to any really intelligent person. Renoir said he
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generosity.'
The two girls, therefore, were from an early age not the least daunted
beautifully out of contact. She and Clifford lived in their ideas and
could she do with two little children on her hands? But Ted's mother
distance the chimney of Tevershall pit, with its clouds of steam and
At the cottage the door stood open, and there was a rattling heard
him, as if he had trespassed on one's privacy and inner freedom. For,
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administer to him. And she said very humbly: 'Shall I do this now, Sir
Clifford's success. Another feather in the family cap! She didn't care
Of course I should mind. Sex is a private thing between me and Julia;
trailed in utter hopeless ugliness for a long and gruesome mile:
point, any nightclub you like, know anybody you want to know, live the
Yes, Lady Chatterley's not looking at all well! Why, she used to be
Does it matter very much? Do these things really affect us very
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triumphed, finding nothing altered. She would never forgive Connie for
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But your mother...?'
Olive was reading a book about the future, when babies would be bred in
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Connie wondered sometimes if it were a sort of mask to disarm
In the flesh it was--You leave me alone!--on either side.
the same as on the first evening; to Connie also. There was no breaking
back...'Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet
with a sort of horror; she felt she was living underground. Then she
for money is the seal and stamp of success. And success was what they
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Geoffrey stood for England and Lloyd George as his forebears had stood
sort who defrauded a woman even of her own body.
Michaelis' life. He had succeeded: he had carried them away. Even
utterly incapable, that he even thought well of Horatio Bottomley. Sir
The child peeped up again. 'Yes!' she simpered.
through it Clifford felt the inner effrontery. Connie didn't feel it,
he said.
perhaps. A little morphine in all the air. It would be wonderfully
She wondered why he should be miserable. 'Won't you sit down again?'
a thing you didn't fool yourself about, joy was a word you applied to a
bitch-goddess was nothingness, though the men prostituted themselves
It's awfully nice of you to think of me,' he said laconically.
might say, chirpy, with his ruddy, healthy-looking face, arid his
connexion. But a woman could yield to a man without yielding her inner,
without her silent presence. She had an immense respect for
He invited Michaelis down to Wragby with Act I.
I hope I didn't disturb you?'
Mrs Bolton helped Clifford to bed at night, and slept across the
left hand and made her a slight bow, like a gentleman; but he said
Anyhow that was better than just mooning yourself into the grave.
I deny that Bolshevism is logical, it rejects the major part of the
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When Miss Chatterley--Emma--came down to London from the Midlands to do
bramble brake.
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mental attraction. All the wonderful things the young men thought and
way as if about to attack them; then stopped instead, saluted, and was
her, but now to be known. She felt more at home with Lady Chatterley,
It's much less complicated if one stays pure,' said Berry.
social sport of coolly holding her own, and making other people defer
breath of Persephone, this time; she was out of hell on a cold morning.
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top.'
last thin thrill of passion beyond any sexual orgasm. And she praised
grow together again. For two years he remained in the doctor's hands.
the utter, soulless ugliness of the coal-and-iron Midlands at a glance,
more inward, the very shapes of his shoulders and his buttocks less
hedgehogs.
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yet, to Connie, it was a methodical anarchy. No warmth of feeling
She rose and went slowly towards home. As she went she heard a faint
coming to the crisis: and then she could prolong the connexion and
common pulse of humanity.
each other. And habit, to my thinking, is more vital than any
wetness. But there it is! I like women and talk to them, and therefore
stone wall. She turned the corner of the house and stopped. In the
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Connie had received the shock of vision in her womb, and she knew it;
All right!' she said.
and little buttocks. She was too feminine to be quite smart.
But don't you?' she insisted.
she saw Connie standing outside.
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might in an assumed good manner.
Englishman, still less an Irishman. A real foreigner.
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his books. She entertained...there were always people in the house.
Why, yes, thank you, your Ladyship! I was reared here...'
moment was everything. And moments followed one another without
unpopular, they merely belonged to another species altogether from the
Hilda only glowered at him without replying; repartee was not her
pebbles. She heard the faint tinkle of water, as the tiny overflow
with sifted gravel from the pit-bank. When the rock and refuse of the
needed them in this wind.
roost turns into pure hate. We're all Bolshevists, only we are
own powers, and went with a great cheerfulness.
encountered at their worst.
monuments, in these filthy Midlands.
and left it at what it was: unbelievable and not to be thought about.
this Mrs Bolton had once nursed him through scarlet fever, and he knew
must be mechanical. The only thing that is a unit, non-organic,
Bennerley. 'And the moment you begin to be aware of your body, you are
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years older than Connie.
They mostly do,' he said; then he caught himself up. 'I mean...a woman
Clifford sat in the pale sun, with the light on his smooth, rather
the answering, immense yearning over him; she must give him anything,
bit, the money and the rest. Then we'll get a democracy of touch,
downstairs to Clifford. She had to help him in all the intimate things,
rattle of it!
Beastly place! Foul place! Kill anybody! Come away with me into the
But this thing can't go on...this hate business. There must be a
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And also it was a little irritating. She had more respect for
gods...men like gods! It's just the same as Bolshevism. One has to be
the problem. Sex and a cocktail: they both lasted about as long, had
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couldn't. She had to go back to Wragby.
couldn't 'go off'. She just sat and stared and looked dazzled, and felt
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said Tommy Dukes. 'I'd like to know what the tie is...The tie that
you don't have them they hate you because you won't; and when you do
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talking to them; but talking to them, though it makes me intimate in
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twenty-nine.
The rector was a nice man of about sixty, full of his duty, and
to be shipped over to England again six months later, more or less in
land rose steeply, so the back yard was sunken, and enclosed by a low
on to life, of forcing one's deepest instincts; our deepest feelings we
death. Sometimes indigestion interferes with me. Hunger would interfere
It was her youth which rebelled. These men seemed so old and cold.
day. It was somehow cancelled. All the great words, it seemed to
face and bearing; and the wrong sort of grievance. He had a grudge and
stared; the tradesmen lifted their caps to Connie as to an
make up the grand sum-total of nothingness!
minds to you. It was great fun! But what cold minds!
riding, was denuded and strangely forlorn. On the crown of the knoll
composed of many different, yet equally essential parts, is the
young! The way the passion would flush in her rather pale cheek. She
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Vaguely she knew herself that she was going to pieces in some way.
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It was in her second winter at Wragby her father said to her: 'I hope,
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in the women's half-fawning voices, was impossible. There was no
it be an effort?'
in which a certain vagueness was coming. He seemed alert in the
ridiculous.
peculiar loathsome whiteness of Carrara marble, detestable as false
thing like anything else. It's the inevitable outcome of forcing ideas
insignificant substance. It made her feel immensely depressed and
Clifford stopped the chair, once through the gate, and the man came
sincerely to you?'
And what will come after it?' asked Clifford.
His was the greater misfortune. It was all part of the general
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liehe problem. If we took no more notice of the one thing than the
mind and the reason to cock it over the rest, and all they can do is to
Connie pondered this.
babies in bottles.'
with Julia, and Hammond had cut up very roughly.
none of 'em.'
a straw about his books, but why should she?
bring success. If you began to be unsuccessful you'd begin to flirt,
hurt, rather pathetic thing a human body is, naked; somehow a little
Oh that!...he'll divorce you all right...Why don't you and I marry? I
clinging to him. And he lay there in his own isolation, but somehow
I'm thirty...yes, I'm thirty!' said Michaelis, sharply and suddenly,
Olive.
Connie and Clifford had now been nearly two years at Wragby, living
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Don't you cry then!' she said, bending in front of the child. 'See
amused, got to! Your vitality is much too low; no reserves, no
reserves. The nerves of the heart a bit queer already: oh, yes! Nothing
However, came the war, Hilda and Connie were rushed home again after
study, when before they were so remote. For Mrs Betts would sometimes
But you want me to have my satisfaction too, don't you?' she repeated.
their vague life of absorption in Clifford and his work. Their
asked him about himself, his mother and father, his brothers...other
marry nor run after women. I think Charlie's quite right; if he wants
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An' sixpence an' all! Oh, your Ladyship, you shouldn't, you shouldn't.
threshold into the rather dreary little room.
That's quite true, criticism and knowledge are not the same thing,'
twigs against the sky, and their grey, obstinate trunks rising from the
hardly making a display of selflessness.
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couldn't quite, quite love in hopelessness. And he, being hopeless,
dead. And now it was not money that Michaelis was after. Clifford had
It would almost be a good thing if you had a child by another man, he
from the bare boughs, with a hollow little crash. For the rest, among
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And his plain, rather worn face took on an indefinable look of
bullied, but she didn't mind. She was experiencing the upper classes.
dead, very nearly. How time went by! Ten years dead, and she was only
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Very well, Clifford. If we don't settle something by to-morrow, I
transmutation it makes, both in the body of men and women: the woman
The three had said they would all live together always. But now Herbert
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called, of Success, roamed, snarling and protective, round the
for they all do it. Else we bust apart, and cover up the spiteful
clean thing of it? Why don't we marry?'
Now why don't you go for a walk through the wood, and look at the
Wragby was a long low old house in brown stone, begun about the middle
was twenty and Connie eighteen, their father could see plainly that
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organic processes which persisted in its own clumsiness, but was not
wanted. Money, Success, the bitch-goddess, as Tommy Dukes persisted in
people. The miners were, in a sense, his own men; but he saw them as
was:'--and it's darned-well drowned everything worth having.'
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Haven't you done anything about it?'
look out over the trees to the colliery railway, and the new works at
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them.
demi-vierge.'
joint-property, make-a-success-of-it, My-husband-my-wife sort of love?
Connie helped him as much as she could. At first she was thrilled. He
would scorn to let such a thing appear blatant in his own demeanour.
his own through generations. He wanted to protect them. He wanted this
When he rose, he kissed both her hands, then both her feet, in their
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interfered with you more seriously,' said Hammond satirically.
Michaelis had seized upon Clifford as the central figure for a play;
was all so EX CATHEDRA, and it all pretended to be so humble.
It was just dismal, and one had to put up with it. It was quite true,
be queenly, and give the gift of herself?
Connie was not keen on chains, but she said nothing. She was thinking
She married Clifford Chatterley in 1917, when he was home for a month
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to be flippant about it.
was dead, and Sir Geoffrey wanted Clifford to marry. Sir Geoffrey
she had had a shock. After all, merely a man washing himself,
Connie suffered from the steady drizzle of resentment that came from
all of us Bolshevists, only we give it another name. We think we're
She neither resented nor disliked Clifford; he was just part of a
sometimes. Almost notorieties, aren't you? That's how the quiet little
lamed. He hated seeing anyone except just the personal servants. For he
sex. We're free to talk to anybody; so why shouldn't we be free to make
Hilda set her jaw, and that meant something.
if the whole of his being were in his stories.
Nothingness! To accept the great nothingness of life seemed to be the
Still she thought the most beautiful part of her was the long-sloping
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Bolshevism, it seems to me,' said Charlie, 'is just a superlative
connexion between, the apple and the tree: the organic connexion. And
In fact everything was a little ridiculous, or very ridiculous:
that surprised her a little.
been in the house for forty years. Even the very housemaids were no
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This place was a little sinister, cold, damp. Yet the well must have
girls to be 'free', and to 'fulfil themselves'. She herself had never
deeply?...You had that lover in Germany...what is it now? Nothing
She had been supposed to have rather a good figure, but now she was out
and their presumptions and assumptions. That indestructible, inward
somebody now, with Lady Chatterley talking to me! But she needn't think
bits. Constance, his wife, was then twenty-three years old, and he was
phallus!'
conscription, and the shortage of sugar and toffee for the children. In
less in love with the boy afterwards, and a little inclined to hate
the cultivated Fabians in the palmy, rather pre-Raphaelite days.
Between artists and cultured socialists, Constance and her sister Hilda
how proud he was, after the great shock, of being alive. But he had
one end of living. All the many busy and important little things that
room he did glance vaguely round at the fine German reproductions of
touch.
idea...I suppose marry-and-have-done-with-it would pretty well stand
exclusive.'
This denuded place always made Clifford curiously angry. He had been
home.'
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And he became a soldier, inscrutable, only pale with annoyance.
Chapter 2
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Emphatically, that's THAT!
That is the pivot on which all things turn.'
back of the cottage. Having failed to make herself heard, her mettle
kicking days were over. Alas, they weren't... They never would be. For
Haven't you looked at the child!' asked Hilda, gazing at him full
when she was glowing with a sort of pleasure beyond words, and a sort
a little place, for a while. But when the Company, the Tevershall
I'll come to you,' she said.
don't want Clifford to know not even to suspect. It WOULD hurt him so
drag in the corpus delicti. They were so intimate, and utterly out of
off from their own class by the brooding, obstinate, shut-up nature of
Bond Street the image of a gentleman, for you cannot get even the best
perhaps with impudence.
Connie walked dimly on. From the old wood came an ancient melancholy,
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was away, but the Kensington house was open.
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Clifford, and his writings and his talk: against all the men of his
nothing, only somewhere she smelt the extraordinarily unpleasant smell
like you!'
Well, Charlie and I believe that sex is a sort of communication like
at all, only at the chair.
woman. You don't talk to a woman unless you have ideas in common: that
now, and dying from day to day. Home was a place you lived in, love was
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Oh yes!' said Connie. But, as she said it she heard the eleven-o'clock
OUGHT to sleep with her,' said May. 'It's the only decent thing, to go
where the oaks had stood, now was bareness; and from there you could
So the men, especially those no longer young, were very nice to her
The child looked at her, with bold, dark eyes of scrutiny, sizing her
selection. You just wouldn't let the wrong sort of fellow touch you.'
Though boiling with rage, Clifford said nothing.
to himself, he had no illusions about himself. He talked to Clifford
drive she came, tooting up the incline, then sweeping round the oval of
connexions especially! If people don't exaggerate them ridiculously,
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house-chair; he was very strong and agile with his arms. Then Connie
saw Connie lifting the inert legs of the man in her arms, into the
And his restlessness was evident. He asked her about his play...did she
Unfortunately no woman makes any particular start with me, so I go to
low-alike, they take what a woman does for them for granted. Oh, I've
And yet, deep inside herself, a sense of injustice, of being defrauded,
almost furtively.
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lap. Even she caught the faint, tarry scent of the flowers. And then,
down his external man.
and I are married, no matter what happens to us. We have the habit of
over the pure, delicate, white loins, the bones showing a little, and
Will Connie go?' asked Clifford.
disconnexion, a restlessness was taking possession of her like madness.
Wrong! Good God, no! You're only too infinitely good to me...I can
to bring yourself off! You'd have to run the show!'
young and expectant, with a real look of its own. Now it was going
Well then! I tell you, if I'm really a male thing at all, I never run
What was she serving, after all? A cold spirit of vanity, that had no
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This is the last moment when I ought to hate you,' she said
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bitterly. And in her bitterness burned a cold indignation against
Connie Mellors! Well, that's a nice name! And did you come out with
and if you're not mackerel or herring yourself you are likely to find
richness. Gone! Only the German boy had loved it, and he was ten years
private wood. The road from Mansfield swerved round to the north.
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nothing to it. She understood perfectly well why people had cocktail
women. Connie's young man was musical, Hilda's was technical. But they
herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that
were hovering, like unsure tenants on the face of the earth, ready to
pictures. Whereas Clifford discovered new channels of publicity, all
about in the right way, especially 'over there'. Clifford was a coming
Then she gathered her defiance, and looked at him, her dark blue eyes
patient of the doctor's till he died last month. He is really a good
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soldier rather than a servant. And something about him reminded Connie
one life, and if you missed the bus, you were just left on the
loins. She was getting thinner, but to her it was not becoming. The
So let's make cider of ourselves,' said Charlie.
for what I think. Though of course between a man and woman who care for
could one ever know? How could one say Yes? for years and years? The
man; and it was remarkable what a sound publicity instinct he had. In
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If some of the old England isn't preserved, there'll be no England at
She slipped into her nightdress, and went to bed, where she sobbed
but she did not contradict him. So different are impressions on two
for England and St George: and he never knew there was a difference. So
having lived it. Believe me!' And she took another sip of brandy, which
dance to.
I suppose,' said Lady Bennerley, contemplatively, 'if the
smoke, and on the damp, hazy distance of the hill the raw straggle of
How'd you like to be immunized?' Winterslow asked her, with an ugly
of, or because of, the title and the land. They were cut off from those
What then?'
field of life is largely an artificially-lighted stage today, the
trees, meant something else.
drifted again to love.
that got her first was the real dog among dogs, if you go by success!
They aren't, of course,' chimed in Berry, a brown, shy young man, who
And are you alone?' asked Connie.
quickly, and startled her. He looked uneasy himself, but instantly a
the same effect, and amounted to about the same thing.
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be buried there, added to the ghastly host under the tombstones and the
Only there was something in their deep-mouthed slurring of the dialect,
I'm sure! It's necessary. Either that, or Father and I must take
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natural for me to go to bed with her to finish it, all in due season.
no good. The men didn't want one; they just didn't really want a woman,
place without much distinction. It stood on an eminence in a rather
and let the men talk, and not give herself away. As for Michaelis, he
child's soul was sobbing with gratitude to the woman, and burning to
him. He was really anti-social, which was what Clifford and his cronies
merely walk round them with millions of words, in the parade of the
once you start the mental life you pluck the apple. You've severed the
But occasional love, as a comfort arid soothing, was also a good thing,
The curious, suspicious, false amiability with which the miners' wives
line old park of oak trees, but alas, one could see in the near
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This was a new voice in Wragby, very new for Connie to hear; it roused
message, looking unconsciously into his eyes again. And now his eyes
Perfect, white, solitary nudity of a creature that lives alone, and
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But the front of her body made her miserable. It was already beginning
of male humans. But a MAN! C'EST UNE AUTRE CHOSE!
do the occasional connexions matter? And the occasional sexual
young fir-trees, a track that seemed to lead nowhere. But she felt it
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quite suit Connie to be a demi-vierge.'
Oh, no!' she said.
change him from an ownerless dog, whom everybody begrudges its golden
Mick, as people called him. Yet other men seemed to mean nothing to
probably I'm just a special case: one of the men who like women, but
Well then we're all plucked apples,' said Hammond, rather acidly and
Both Hilda and Constance had had their tentative love-affairs by the
whoever it was! And Alcibiades, and all the other little disciple dogs
jeering. But that is how men are! Ungrateful and never satisfied. When
absolutely wrong.
forgotten, it is then that the terrible after-effects have to be
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it were, command the future: as when, in the wood, he talked about her
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feel small, and like a servant, and she accepted it without a word,
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pear, and she was an amazon of the real old breed.
giving up her personal care of him to a strange hired woman. It killed,
writers, people who would help to praise his books. And they were
ideas, so why not?'
It was as if thousands and thousands of little roots and threads of
by Wednesday?'
no! Love's another of those half-witted performances today. Fellows
His moment of sheer thrill with the two Chatterleys, when he simply
manners, or his sort of etiquette. He considered them rather outsiders,
HAMMOND. Oh, you're quite right, you're quite right! The life of the
Therefore the peculiar soft assurance of a girl like Constance Reid
consistently modest and maidenly.
dangerous feeling, once it is awakened. It must have outlet, or it eats
curling, brown hair, and a soft voice, and rather strong, female loins
house. But the housekeeper had served Sir Geoffrey for many years, arid
And you think it's a writer of popular plays that you've got to be?'
phase after phase, TAPE after TAPE, there was a certain grisly
And a woman had to yield. A man was like a child with his appetites. A
certainly everything connected with authority, whether it were in the
You may feel it, I don't.'
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Here is the address of a good manservant, who was with an invalid
probably turn nasty and flounce away and spoil what was a very pleasant
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free self. That the poets and talkers about sex did not seem to have
downhill.
Blest be the tie that binds
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Chat'ley GOOD to you!'--Connie couldn't help looking at the old woman's
would he care to go up to Lady Chatterley's sitting-room.
a grim will of its own, and the people had guts. Connie wondered what
strong will to self-assertion, and you want success. Since I've been in
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all,' said Clifford. 'And we who have this kind of property, and the
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populace.
Nevertheless, Connie had the child at the back of her mind. Wait! wait!
Yet in some curious way it was a visionary experience: it had hit her
nose, and the latter again vaguely wiped her face with the back of her
organic connexion with the thought and expression that had gone before.
way. She looked up at him quickly.
So the girls were 'free', and went back to Dresden, and their music,
love to any woman who inclines us that way?'
all these things, of course, the authorities were ridiculously at
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I don't think I can stand that young man,' said Clifford at lunch.
coming out. But it made Connie want to scream. Oh God, if the mechanism
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But Clifford was not like that. His whole race was not like that. They
But men and women may have different feelings about the wrong sort of
almost famous, and it even brought in money...what did her father mean
Maybe it does...and too little of you goes that way, Hammond, my boy,
resurrection of the body!' She didn't at all know what it meant, but it
objects rather than men, parts of the pit rather than parts of life,
going to start forcing myself to it...My God, no! I'll remain as I am,
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Midlands routine, the mechanical cleanliness and the mechanical order!
theoretically. But when she actually touched her steadily-lived life
to get her and Michaelis together again.
glamour for a man any more.'
one of the upper class. The upper classes fascinated her, appealing to
of our individual resistance. And then a swimming through, like rats in
really giving herself away. Certainly she could take him without giving
head seriously.
was a child sobbing. At once she attended; someone was ill-treating a
from its tiny well-bed of pure, reddish-white pebbles. How icy and
the sharp gimlet of her well-born observations.
expressionless. They went fairly quickly down the slope, the man with
depression!'
feeling for him, or for any man, collapsed that night. Her life fell
uppermost. She felt just prepared to make a scene.
trench timber. The whole knoll, which rose softly on the right of the
and sordid connexions and subjections.
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sitting under a bo-tree, or Jesus, telling his disciples little Sunday
impression of authority on her own mind or soul that she could not get
her against her sister-in-law Emma.
can't help it.'
You lovely lad!' said Tommy. 'No, my cherub, nine times out of ten,
something young and bright in his fair hair, and his quick eyes. He
But the wood is older than your family,' said Connie gently.
marry. Oh, yes, I must marry.'
mechanical anarchy. Everything went on in pretty good order, strict
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When Connie went up to her bedroom she did what she had not done for a
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but a little breathless.
were ridiculous too. Sir Geoffrey, Clifford's father, was intensely
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children you wanted. Mick's children! Repulsive thought! As lief have a
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the rest. She never really touched the spirit of the wood itself...if
just sheer joy in pulling somebody else to bits...Protagoras, or
sort of life! And no prospect! She almost wished she had gone off with
he was lame. And their queer, crude life seemed as unnatural as that of
you see!'--and the old woman turned to the child: 'Fancy Lady
Clifford anyhow was not just keen on his 'satisfaction', as so many men
it rapturously. Yet all the while, at the bottom of her soul, she knew
put to show the end of a paragraph, and a break in the theme.
fashion, and it was all a mad hatter's tea-party for a while. Till
inwardly alone. And beyond that, a certain beauty of a pure creature.
she thought of having a child by him. There were several who would have
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of advertising himself into prominence? The bitch-goddess, Success, was
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Connie was a little overwhelmed by his words. She knew he was right
on you! Ugh! Humiliation and abomination.
these four men! these, and one or two others. That they never seemed to
alive, money is a necessity, and the only absolute necessity. All the
of Tommy Dukes.
Michaelis came: in summer, in a pale-coloured suit and white suede
man, what would one's personal hate matter? This business concerned
Clifford contemplatively.
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Why not? but why not?' he cried. 'He'll hardly know you've gone, after
nursing course and got qualified. She was determined to be independent
enough. He was so very much at one with her, in his mind and hers, but
feeling for it, must preserve it.'
proud of! The rest all-my-eye-Betty-Martin.
pale with the pallor of endless little anemones, sprinkling the shaken
terrified even of this. His importance as son of Sir Geoffrey, and
Lascivious! well, why not--? I can't see I do a woman any more harm by
to have a certain amount of it to be able to live and get along...even
terrible? and also splendid and at the same time, perhaps, purely
Clifford, and lie prone in the bracken. To get away from the
floor, of course. Michaelis was flattered by being asked up to Lady
Chapter 6
Clifford only sulked, and would not answer.
dismay, she could not help putting her hand, with tenderness and
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Clifford there and then. She couldn't do it. No...no! She just
description of the whole of the industrial ideal. It's the
There might even be real men, in the next phase,' said Tommy. 'Real,
lose her balance.
subtly, she was unravelling the tangle of his consciousness and hers,
with Clifford. There was Tommy Dukes, who had remained in the army, and
this morning!'
fire.
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hopeless. What hope was there? She was old, old at twenty-seven, with
only I had! No; my heart's as numb as a potato, my penis droops and
same house with one another.
Do you wonder? And do you think he employs his shining hours doing
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live by...not the occasional spasm of any sort. Little by little,
you play. It's a sort of permanent accident of your own nature; once
only a sort of primitive reversion and a bit of an anti-climax. One was
all became utterly blank and nothing. It was words, just so many words.
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and forget it. If you don't hang on to it in your mind, it's nothing.
ideas.'
last. Why should there be anything in them, why should they last?
Clifford's occasional aristocratic relations. Being a soft, ruddy,
Me? Oh, intellectually I believe in having a good heart, a chirpy
with her; Mrs Bolton was ready at any moment to talk. And she seemed so
quarters seemed to have come; right up to the doors of Clifford's
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sun! It's the sun you want, of course, and a bit of normal life.'
collar, into a comfortable society dog.
glowing skin, and soft brown hair, and naturally strong, warm physique.
give a woman the darndest good time she can ask for. I think I can
viscount's daughter.
slate roofs for lids, sharp angles and wilful, blank dreariness.
come from her native village. It was not so at all. Her father was the
in a marriage. If we stick to that we ought to be able to arrange this
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him with her beautiful, glowering grey eyes. She looked so maidenly, so
the local people. But also something very uncommon.
catastrophe.
shirt, without the clumsy velveteen coat, she saw again how slender he
me! Come down to Sicily! Go on, come to Sicily with me. It's lovely
habit. Slowly, slowly the wound to the soul begins to make itself felt,
from her parish duties to take up private nursing jobs. Clifford had a
Sniffs; then very affectedly in a piping voice: 'Connie Mellors!'
told the colliers off about it many a time. But it's very hard for Sir
kissing you, and touching you with their bodies, they revealed their
coin into the child's chubby hand, which closed over it.
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breathe in art, and they had been taken also in the other direction, to
Taking an order, his whole self had changed, glazed over with a sort of
sneering little voice:
And what sort of a good time?' asked Connie, gazing on him still with
words to life would be: So that's THAT!
He was remotely interested; but like a man looking down a microscope,
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He gave another slight bow, turned, put his hat on, and strode to take
wait-and-see sort especially so. And armies were ridiculous, and old
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The grandmother looked around swiftly at the child:
unripe, a little bitter, without meaning hanging there. And her belly
hate Sir Geoffrey.
You must have a nurse or somebody, to look after you personally. You
Quite alone, your Ladyship.'
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power. It was a question of will; a subtle, subtle, powerful emanation
it a blow. How still the trees were, with their crinkly, innumerable
slack, and a little flat, thinner, but with a slack thinness. Her
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suede slippers, and in silence went away to the end of the room, where
all the time she felt the reflection of his hopelessness in her. She
adjusting herself to the upper classes.
place inviolate, shut off from the world.
Perhaps instinctively he knew it, and that was why he had to bring down
Clifford made big eyes: it was all stuff to him. Connie secretly
leaning here and there, big sawn stumps, showing their tops and their
a checkmate physically there.'
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unaware. He was naked to the hips, his velveteen breeches slipping down
No, Sir!' came the ready, neutral words.
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Down posted Hilda from Scotland, where she had taken up her abode. She
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display! a display! a display!
passionately active, coming to her own crisis. And as he felt the
if they did.
None at all!' said Connie. 'But oughtn't there to be?'
grasping roots, lifeless. And patches of blackness where the woodmen
intelligence-age of seven. It would be even more amazing than men of
abeyance, slowly rising to the surface and creating the great ache of
I wanted to stop with my Gran,' said the little girl.
had been deer, and archers, and monks padding along on asses. The place
dazed, looking down in a sort of amazement at the rather tender nape of
denial. Fashionable women kept their bodies bright like delicate
being so still and alone, she seemed to bet into the current of her own
It twitched her limbs when she didn't want to twitch them, it jerked
Now she had more time to herself she could softly play the piano, up in
couldn't ever quite love at all.
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After a silence the shy fist, clenching on sixpence, pointed into the
Hammond looked rather piqued. He was rather proud of the integrity of
and speaking at last.
did Connie; but he well knew the tone of Scottish obstinacy underneath.
I thought you would go straight ahead,' said Connie. 'And leave you to
she bandaged them, or nursed them. They had always made her feel so
but with the desperate bravery of his rat-like existence.
simple and final.
going to snow. All grey, all grey! the world looked worn out.
acquaintance, there was not a man who did not rouse her contempt, when
stared at Connie in his peculiar way, giving her his peculiar, precise
longer young. It was awful! What could you do with such a place, but
the Soviet-social thing. Even an organism is bourgeois: so the ideal
apron, and a dirty face! Nice idea she'd get of me!'
to say, especially when Tommy was there. It was fun. Instead of men
of love for him. Because, after all, like so many modern men, he was
length he ceased to quiver any more, and lay quite still, quite still.
gloves, 'and I'll drive her to town tomorrow.'
Money? Perhaps one couldn't say the same there. Money one always
mockingly, but warm and blue, and somehow kind. She wondered at him. He
anyone but the person concerned.
She wondered very much about him; he seemed so unlike a game-keeper, so
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something or other. Just to keep the business mechanically going, you
means...? Were those of Michaelis more despicable than those of
He was. But his wife went off with...with various men...but finally
but nerves; I'd put you right in a month at Cannes or Biarritz. But it
But she was. A strange, weary yearning, a dissatisfaction had started
of shunting trucks, and the hoarse little whistle of the colliery
climbing up, which she knew was characteristic of his breed.
From the rather dismal rooms at Wragby she heard the rattle-rattle of
place. One may go against convention, but one must keep up tradition.'
have labels on you, like travellers' trunks. Julia is labelled MRS
Chatterley, still disgusted at her brother's defection, had departed
body, she couldn't escape. The days seemed to grind by, with curious
morning', heartily relieved to get away from the contact.
expression inscrutable, but well-bred. Hilda thought it sulky and
were all alike, they left everything out. They just went off from the
NOTHING IN IT. It won't last! Connie looked at the burly Scottish
willingly. It was a demand on her, but she had wanted to do what she
She thought of Michaelis, and the money she might have had with him;
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Sobs, snuffles, a fist taken from a blubbered face, and a black shrewd
premisses,' said Hammond.
Not the stuff of beauty, not even the body of beauty, but a lambency,
eyes. She was utterly incapable of resisting it. From her breast flowed
not wanting to be invaded.
her ladyship yet, Mellors?'
mind needs a comfortable house and decent cooking. You're quite right.
You do believe in love then, Tommy, don't you?'
expressed and wrote, they thought and expressed and wrote for the young
Tommy Dukes burst into a laugh.
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would not be so tiring as it was across the bark, flatten against her.
And I do think you confuse the mental life with the critical activity.
were in abeyance he seemed doubly naked and like a child, of
Connie?
killed off during the war, and the wood had been left unprotected, till
The man faced lightly round, and saluted with a quick little gesture, a
With the child!'
green-stained stone cottage, looking almost rosy, like the flesh
the finest army in the world in a very short time, with the finest
Then the individual, especially the PERSONAL man, is bourgeois: so he
There was a sad pause. 'Yes, for a little while,' said Connie.
the near horizon went the haze, opalescent with frost and smoke, and on
curious, cool wonder; impersonally wanting to see what she looked like.
completely: for he wanted to prostitute himself to the bitch-goddess,
craving for prostitution to the bitch-goddess, Success. Even Clifford's
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obstinately, stoically waiting, and giving off a potency of silence.
hair and sturdy body, and slow movements, full of unusual energy. She
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been quite possible as lover, even Mick. But to let them breed a child
and was living in a little flat in London.
comforted her, as meaningless things may do.
No doubt water ought not to be so wet as it is; it overdoes it in
This was more or less Constance Chatterley's position. The war had
want people. But her quick ear caught another sound, and she roused; it
wood-gate, a fine ribbon of pink. Clifford had had it newly gravelled
and went trailing off over the little sky.
upset her so much, in spite of herself.
unrest, and stupor of discontent. The bruise was deep, deep, deep...the
If you were young, you just set your teeth, and bit on and held on,
That's why having a son helps; one is only a link in a chain,' he
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baronet, Sir Clifford, and Constance was Lady Chatterley. They came to
fluent, down-slipping grace that might have been beauty. Her skin was
by either art or ideal politics. It was their natural atmosphere. They
station, like a wardrobe trunk.'
grand, almost super-human in her administrations. Now Clifford made her
still-wondering blue eyes became vague. Nothing in it! What did he mean
her peculiar English passion for superiority. She was thrilled to come
Absolutely!' said Tommy. 'But also, it seems to me a perfect
detachment. He was estimating her, and the extent of the impression he
shit!'' in front of my mother or my aunt...they are real ladies, mind
might begin to say how lonely I am, and always have been, and all the
I was really very glad to get him...its almost impossible to find a
But doesn't it make you sad?'
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laughed outright, though it was his trees that were falling for trench
opposition, because it was almost too fixed. Was he really such a sad
began to wheel down the passage to the servants' quarters.
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small blue sky that had poised low on its circular rims of haze was
think it's worth considering?'
his best at this time, and was almost happy in his strange blind way.
very jolty down-slope. He sat looking at the greenish sweep of the
He turned his slow, rather full eyes, that had been drowned in such
was a Brigadier-General. 'The army leaves me time to think, and saves
asked Tommy Dukes, who was more or less her oracle.
men and women, instead of our little lot of clever-jacks, all at the
And yet was he not in a way to blame? This lack of warmth, this lack of
lead a regular life. I lead the deuce of a life, simply tearing myself
Naturally you don't. I'm afraid you mistake unscrupulousness for
Wragby with real hate. She looked soft and warm herself, as a ripe
than most bonds; though Mrs Bolton's coming had been a great help.
Irishwoman...'
emotional. Now he blushed and looked uncomfortable.
birds fluttered. But there was no game; no pheasants. They had been
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His sad-dog sort of extinguished self persisted all the evening, though
rest of the my-eye-Betty-Martin sob-stuff! Damn it all, if a fellow's
The sunshine gave way to chill; the daffodils were in shadow, dipping
She was stronger, she could walk better, and iii the wood the wind
But what about the other man?' she asked.
how should I know? Anyhow I've no starry calculations to be interfered
marrow she had left. And Michaelis, thrilled by his power to thrill,
Why should it? Not a bit! I look at Charlie May, and the rest of the
invisible flower! She had forgotten him in her unspeakable depression.
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I wasn't talking about knowledge...I was talking about the mental
and kissed him?'
No, I'm not. But isn't something wrong?'
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lunch, and the dining-room was a little dreary. After coffee Michaelis,
Oh do! DO be impossible, General!' cried Olive.
cronies had such a curious pomposity under their assumed modesty. It
This day, however, Clifford wanted to send a message to the keeper, and
Mellors took the chair again, looking perfectly unheeding, yet Connie
indifferent business man, or big-business man, he let himself be asked
there had been no trace of dialect before. He might almost be a
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for he wrote smart society plays. Then gradually smart society realized
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And he wanted Clifford to marry and produce an heir. Clifford felt his
penis, a lively intelligence, and the courage to say ''shit!'' in front
brought on by fretting. We're not running any risks.'
faces, as they turned them away from the wind.
was a sparkle of yellow jasmine by the door; the closed door. But no
to run after the women, he's quite free not to run too often. But I
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the physical experience. It is curious what a subtle but unmistakable
As she came out of the wood on the north side, the keeper's cottage, a
wish I did something with mine. God! when one can only talk! Another
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crossing sun. The first windflowers were out, and all the wood seemed
Connie's arm. 'A woman has to live her life, or live to repent not
Yet he was absolutely dependent on her, he needed her every moment. Big
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And do you like it?'
saw such a change! Why ever didn't you let me know? Come to Nice with
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She wanted to forget, to forget the world, and all the dreadful,
which made her turn her face aside a little. He thought her comely,
Daddy can do what he has to do.' She turned to the man. 'It is your
slightest sign of flirting on her part, she gave them no encouragement
But modelled in the earth,' she retorted, with a prompt contradiction,
Connie's father, where he paid a flying visit to Wragby, and in private
emotions with women as we do ideas about the weather, and so on. Sex
Clifford professed to like Wragby better than London. This country had
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personal stories about people he had known. Clever, rather spiteful,
frankness didn't bother her; she was having a new experience.
superior to them. She felt almost upper class; and at the same time a
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of the knoll in the park, he breathed rather quickly, through parted
none. No caps were touched, no curtseys bobbed. The colliers merely
she, Emma, who should be bringing forth the stories, these books, with
laugh they looked as if they had suffered a great deal, still without
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and the university and the young men. They loved their respective young
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intercourse, and let him finish and expend himself without herself
wild, craving physical desire. The physical desire he did not satisfy
Clifford.
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he, in a sense, asked to be kicked. He pined to be where he didn't
woman walking around with my name-label on her, address and railway
the warm, white flame of a single life, revealing itself in contours
There was no communication between Wragby Hall and Tevershall village,
galleries, and a portrait of him in two galleries. He seemed the most
accompaniment.
all; like the soil of Labrador, which his gay little flowers on its
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So she went round the side of the house. At the back of the cottage the
matter? It's the life-long companionship that matters. It's the living
same time he was forlorn like a child. An outcast, in a certain sense;
there has ever been a time when men and women have liked one another as
weren't mackerel they were herring, with an occasional cat-fish, or
afraid.
was in trousers and flannel shirt and a grey tie, his hair soft and
no gleam and sparkle in the flesh. Old through neglect and denial, yes,
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intelligent, wholesome men, and wholesome nice women! Wouldn't that be
own way.
the body, the soul seems to recover as the body recovers. But this is
No,' he said, seeing Connie stand at a loss, 'my mother comes and
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So she sauntered slowly back, listening. As she came near, the cottage
I don't quite know.'
couldn't spend your last sou, and say finally: So that's THAT! No, if
all his will and self-offering, till she brought about her own crisis,
erect, alive thing, with its top in the sun! And she watched the
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men, and their respective young men loved them with all the passion of
excuse, to see the daffodils.
Michaelis was even better than Clifford at making a display of
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six months. He doesn't know that anybody exists, except himself. Why
are always so cheerful-looking, aren't they?'
fellow,' she said.
of an excursion is that you come home again.
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Certainly nothing but the spirit in us is worth having,' said
information, she felt all the background of his mind filling up with
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gentleman. Anyhow, he was a curious, quick, separate fellow, alone, but
couldn't find one who would do.--'Go ye into the streets and by ways of
She lives in her own cottage in the village.'
is a logical necessity to be spiteful, just as it's a natural necessity
really like; he seemed so selfish in a mental way. And Charles May,
and his determined patriotism. Herbert, the elder brother and heir,
but then the thing was so much talked about, it was supposed to be so
Connie, were cancelled for her generation: love, joy, happiness, home,
little pilchard sort of fish', like a boy, with a boy's flat breast
sending out an appeal that affected her direct in the womb.
maybe was her form of repentance.
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at all, except that they are discontented children, and can't be
They all looked at him as if the ass had spoken.
lifted the burden of his dead legs after him.
You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine! A strange denial of the
to slacken, with a slack sort of thinness, almost withered, going old
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intended to have none. Clifford was extraordinarily proud of himself.
him by her own activity, his little orgasm being over. And he still
at her, saluting coolly, but he was pale with anger.
he turned and came to her again as she sat in her old place by the
life of the mind.
hazel thicket.
I suppose I may as well stay the night,' said Hilda, pulling off her
She was watching a brown spaniel that had run out of a side-path, and
large handful of violets and lilies, and the same hang-dog expression.
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there be?
seen it, and she asked very few people up.
taste. You had to get on without it, and hold your own; which was all
Chatterley came sometimes, with her aristocratic thin face, and
to be quiet as a mouse, not to interfere with the immensely important
Then, with dim, compassionate fingers, she stroked his head, that lay
chair, and he had a bath-chair with a small motor attachment, so he
soap! She was rather annoyed; why should she be made to stumble on
her.
shall telegraph to Father, and we shall take Connie away.'
was moderately tall and lean, and was silent. He did not look at Connie
No, leave it for a time. I'll have it done later.'
England and Lloyd George.
Kudos! A man gets a lot of kudos, whatever that may be, by being talked
This speech was one of the crucial blows of Connie's life. It killed
passionately and sang so lustily and camped under the trees in such
you; and I'm not really intelligent, I'm only a ''mental-lifer''. It
It won't happen,' said Dukes. 'Our old show will come flop; our
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But I am married already,' she said. 'I can't leave Clifford, you
Why, wheer was yer Dad?'
anywhere!
like Charlie, who isn't successful. Married people like you and Julia
fearless a chap as ever set foot on the cage, and it was as good as
He turned aside, working his hands furiously in his trousers pockets.
It was no bother, just a walk,' said Connie smiling.
and strip the rotten old show. But, mind you, it's like this: while you
fathomless disillusion, on Connie, and she trembled a little. He seemed
feelings. And again Connie flushed; she felt she had been making a
purity, in its ivory curves and planes.
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she had then been so scornful of! Where would she find it now? It was
her to say Yes! or whether he was more panic-stricken for fear she
woman I wanted, well and good. Since I don't know any woman I want, and
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riding downwards, a clear way through the bracken and oaks. It swerved
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insistence that it should be so was hard for Clifford to bear up
men had no real glamour for a woman: if you could fool yourself into
said you love me! It means such a lot more...Till afternoon then. I've
moment?'
How do you mean? Do I live alone? I've got my servant. He's a Greek,
stories of his. This thrilled her and absorbed her.
out. He was probably preparing to go out somewhere.
Curious, she thought, that that thin, proud man should have that
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bowl of soapy water, in which he ducked his head, shaking his head with
freedom' and flannel trousers, and flannel shirts open at the neck,
having been home already in May, to their mother's funeral. Before
She needed help, and she knew it: so she wrote a little CRI DU COEUR to
And however one might sentimentalize it, this sex business was one of
and they were hurried home. Neither was ever in love with a young man
anybody, save, traditionally, with Wragby, and, through the close bond
Connie opened the wood-gate, and Clifford puffed slowly through into
Oh, American!' He laughed a hollow laugh. 'No, I've asked my man if he
she had a sister to come and help her. Men don't think, high and
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days of her German boy, who really loved her physically. Then it was
wanted him. But once he had started her, it seemed only natural for her
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sex thing, as we arrange going to the dentist; since fate has given us
On one of her bad days she went out alone to walk in the wood,
occasional excitement. The long, slow, enduring thing...that's what we
but they might get a substitute, you know.
them popular. It's not that. They just are like the weather...the sort
So Michaelis could keep his tail up.
exist...which had nothing in them! Void to void. Vaguely she knew. But
But Connie!' she cried. 'Whatever is the matter?'
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to feel like nothingness. Their marriage, their integrated life based
person at what hour he retires to the privy. It isn't interesting to
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blazing rather vaguely.
looked uninhabited, it was so silent and alone. But a thread of smoke
and yet, in some mysterious way, meaningless. The observation was
harder on her. What she misses! I only had Ted three years, but my
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ESPRANCE A TRAVERS LA TERRE', he read somewhere, and his comment
willy-nilly he took his baronetcy and Wragby with the last seriousness.
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soon recovered his self-possession, letting her do things for him
Yes,' she said slowly.
he balked. She must give him time to dress himself, but not time to go
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comfort it woman with a bit of his masculine glow.
And dimly she realized one of the great laws of the human soul: that
was inevitable in the course of time, took all the service for granted.
Do you think it necessary?' he asked, with his suavest English
married: and the sex part did not mean much to him. They were so close,
liked the colliers, whom she had nursed for so long; but she felt very
I rather think. He may have picked up certain tricks out there, perhaps
She plodded on into the wood, knowing he was looking after her; he
Mick, and made her life one long cocktail party, and jazz evening.
cheap stuff, and was fraying out to nothing.
further ahead, except in a wincing sense of the ridiculousness of
I'm afraid Bolshevism is a large question,' said Hammond, shaking his
children for the day, while she, Ivy Bolton, went to Sheffield, and
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half-witted. So I even consider our far-famed mental life half-witted.
proper human beings with one another. Be damned to the artificial
over his slender loins. And his white slim back was curved over a big
She stood and listened, and it seemed to her she heard sounds from the
promise: Thou shalt have men to talk to!--had never been uttered. It
kinds. He had all kinds of people at Wragby, without exactly lowering
ridiculous. Now he was heir and responsible for Wragby. Was that not
in holding her own, and holding other people a little lower. She was
silent, enduring beauty of a carved ivory Negro mask, with his rather
a man who did himself well, and intended to, but who still could
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little mongrel arriviste, and uneducated bounder of the worst sort.
might be a sort of normal physical conversation between a man and a
Italy. Wait! She was in no hurry about the child. That was her own
Then, as she went, she heard voices, and recoiled. People! She didn't
He wanted to say something later to Connie about the demi-vierge
spiteful things about one another, like all the other damned
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moved its tail. A little smile, mocking or teasing her, yet gentle,
He turned aside, and she saw that in another moment he would be
and strong as he was, he was helpless. He could wheel himself about in
much as they do today. Genuine liking! Take myself. I really like women
a few primroses and the first violets, that smelled sweet and cold,
and die, it shall by no means bring forth. When the crocus cometh forth
up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard
hope it wasn't heavy for you,' said Connie, looking back at the keeper
Oh no, not heavy!' he said quickly. Then his voice dropped again into
There was a gorgeous talk on Sunday evening, when the conversation
Sir Geoffrey felled timber and stood for Lloyd George and England,
erect passivity, he had a curious sense of pride and satisfaction.
but also he shrank from her. His wife's family did not have his sort of
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soul. When Clifford was roused, he could still talk brilliantly and, as
her sister, Hilda. 'I'm not well lately, and I don't know what's the
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The faint smile of mockery narrowed his eyes.
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to be free to THINK you must have a certain amount of money, or your
Cold breaths of wind came, and overhead there was an anger of entangled
Think so? Give me the resurrection of the body!' said Dukes.
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Coquetry!...at his moment of triumph.
The doctor examined Connie carefully, and asked her all about her life.
I asked YOU,' she panted.
A poacher, your Ladyship,' said the man satirically.
Quite, Hammond, quite! But if someone starts making love to Julia, you
on her breast.
skies have fallen.
Connie, you won't let circumstances force you into being a
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You couldn't go off at the same time as a man, could you? You'd have
Connie says people like wisps of smoke, and Olive says immunized
must be suppressed. You must submerge yourselves in the greater thing,
reaction...' said Hammond.
nowhere. Wring it out of the thin air! The last feat to be humanly
ago, twenty-two years last Christmas, just at Christmas time, leaving
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he said to himself, the real flower of the intimacy between him and
the army...'
the old trees was depth within depth of grey, hopeless inertia,
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The child lifted an arm, pointing down the drive. 'At th' cottidge.'
life. Don't you agree?'
it all perfectly. But why not? This was one of the fleeting patterns in
And Mrs Bolton would come to Wragby at once, if Dr Shardlow would let
This was one of the places that Sir Geoffrey had cut during the war for
on a habit of intimacy, that he talked about: there were days when it
privy, have no interest for anyone else.
these matters concern only the person concerned, and, like going to the
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dog?
and come along with me. I'll marry you the minute he divorces you. Come
had big, wondering eyes, and a soft mild voice, and seemed just to have
at Clifford, he was a buffoon, and a buffoon is more humiliating than a
The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build
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barely mentioned it: he spoke very little. But his silent, brooding
There were people staying in the house, among them Clifford's Aunt Eva,
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How many evenings had Connie sat and listened to the manifestations of
Connie away for some months. This can't go on.'
to her.
work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or
a red face and red moustache and distant eyes. He was going quickly
Clifford loved the wood; he loved the old oak-trees. He felt they were
your brain and mind. The mind can only analyse and rationalize. Set the
They shook their bright, sunny little rags in bouts of distress. But
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it intact.'
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After all, one could not stew in one's own juice. The spring came
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thickets of the hazel. The wood was a remnant of the great forest where
to imply. To Clifford this was final and enough. Yet he was very polite
again of a strike, and it seemed to Connie there again it was not a
Connie didn't know what to say.
Has a man for a woman?'
Bravo!' roared Charlie. 'What do you think of Bolshevism?'
Sex especially...nothing! Make up your mind to it, and you've solved
in her. Clifford did not notice: those were not things he was aware of.
impersonal look, as if he wanted to see what she was like. He made her
You think so?' he said coldly.
good being really good and getting left with it. It seemed as if most
if you've got nothing in your life BUT the mental life, then you
I see your photograph, and Sir Clifford's, in the illustrated papers
wanted to be thought 'really good', which was all cock-a-hoopy
top of their heads as if they were squibs, and expected you to be
wax figure. When he had to deal with them, Clifford was rather haughty
There's no woman I can really want when I'm faced with her, and I'm not
like a bruise, which Only slowly deepens its terrible ache, till it
along and try a life! God's love! That place Wragby would kill anybody.
pale shrimp-colour, with a bluish-white hoar of frost. It always
machine. Each man a machine-part, and the driving power of the machine,
hand.
house...she must get away from the house and everybody. The work was
hurt him to smile, showing his teeth. 'You are wise to get up to the
something was in Clifford's mind. She knew that he didn't mind whether
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world of chaos than he was master of himself.
a woman? Can he give her a damn good time, or can't he? If he can't
in the middle of the body. She saw the clumsy breeches slipping down
make.--'Clifford and I together, we make twelve hundred a year out of
Clifford; 'he might almost be a gentleman.'
a well-bred, cold sort of way! But never warm as a man can be warm to a
Connie had a sitting-room on the third floor, the top floor of the
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like children, talking to her, and telling her what hurt them, while
legal compensation, because it was really the man's own fault. And they
back. He, too, in his way, was overwrought; but he had to listen to all
though she liked something about him, seemed a little distasteful and
thighs, too, they used to look so quick and glimpsy in their female
was something that Mick didn't clear, either.
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And what more could I do if you were a man, than talk perfectly
underneath a mushroom, its stone warmed in a burst of sun. And there
men who have affairs...No, I don't envy them a bit! If fate sent me a
sensitive about.
doom.
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a new ear in her.
thought...and these men, at least, tried to think honestly. But somehow
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Again Connie looked at him. His eyes were smiling again, a little
Ah, yes, but you never have anything to do with them!' she said.
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had to take it out some way or other, your youth, or it ate you up. But
asked Connie.
was perfect; exactly the same melancholic, attentive, aloof young
And the bounders who pretended they did, and started working the sex
it, and if he had, he wouldn't have said thank you!
me your name?'
house spread its dark brown facade, and the housekeeper and her husband
warm human contacts, and that was as corrupt as any low-born Jew, in
moved in that good sort of society of people in the government who are
What tradition?' asked Connie.
life, and producing, to her eyes, a rather shabby flower.
connexion with it. It was only a place where she could get away from
it was nothing.
had burned the brushwood and rubbish.
leap mingled with compassion, and tinged with repulsion, amounting
silence, and yet a vital presence. They, too, were waiting:
voice that both sisters had alike. Hilda was nearly, but not quite, two
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other one was a schoolteacher in Chesterfield; she came home weekends,
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Again there was a pause.
He was not really downcast. He could wheel himself about in a wheeled
writer and a writer of plays is what I am, and I've got to be. There's
And the same the other way.'
Emperor it would have been just the same.
wore handsome neckties from Bond Street. Yet still in his face one saw
daffodils turn golden, in a burst of sun that was warm on her hands and
a dispute between masters and men, she was always for the men. But when
go out and have a love-affair. If lack of a child is going to
do? Hang it all, one did one's bit! Was one to be let down ABSOLUTELY?
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It's quite true, you can't live without cash,' said May. 'You've got
need to draw their steel in readiness. She had no real connexion with
WHY, in God's name? I like Clifford, but what would you say if I went
full, hazel eyes, almost hypnotic. 'Now I consider,' he added, 'I can
Ah, how good!' she whispered tremulously, and she became quite still,
rid of. It had nothing to do with Sir Malcolm, who left his nervously
Connie was in love with him, but she managed to sit with her embroidery
her.
was just part of things, like the pit-bank and Wragby itself.
one of the governing class in the village, very much respected.
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various kicks they got at him! And how he hated them!
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way, she was serious to the bottom of her soul. She was not going to
profoundly interested, TALKING to one another. The amazing, the
have any children, Clifford came home to the smoky Midlands to keep the
husband, who had known him as a boy, helped him, and did any heavy
Oh, more or less, I allow. A man's got to be, to get through. But
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Clifford was temporarily in love with him...if that is the way one can
My dear Clifford, think of the way we talk each other over, all of us.
The sheep coughed in the rough, sere grass of the park, where frost lay
I too will emerge and see the sun!' In the wind of March endless
sort of voice, and an ultra-sensitive sort of manner. Hilda, however,
in him generation after generation, like geological strata; and at the
precious to him. It was obvious in the anxious brightness of his eyes,
months...this they had never realized till it happened! The paradisal
and shivering, so bright and alive, but with nowhere to hide their
Chapter 3
Then I'll take her to London, where we have a doctor we trust.'
child of Wragby, was so ingrained in him, he could never escape it. And
But Emma said No! She was ten years older than Clifford, and she felt
Cambridge. Now he had become a first lieutenant in a smart regiment, so
factory-owner's ideal in a nut-shell; except that he would deny that
suffered in contrast to Hilda. Both sisters had the same rather golden,
were at once cosmopolitan and provincial, with the cosmopolitan
they are, is not my department.
settled persistently, incredible, like black manna from the skies of
everyone to think them good, of the best, NE PLUS ULTRA. They appeared
The Bolshevists aren't really intelligent.'
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thankful to be alone.
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the Only decent thing is to have the talk out. You don't prudishly put
human beings, and the male and female business is in abeyance. Just in
risk any chance comer, not she! One might take a lover almost at any
But Clifford never denies me anything,' said Connie.
that brings nobody good.
but why kick? You couldn't kick it away. It just went on. Life, like
Why, Connie, I should trust your natural instinct of decency and
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real mode of intercourse.
But Connie was not keen on going to London, and being steered into the
Very well, Sir Clifford.'
pale-blue, challenging bright eyes. His shoulders were broad and
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occasional spasms of Michaelis. But, as she knew by foreboding, that
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Connie really wondered at this queer, melancholy specimen of
All that really remained was a stubborn stoicism: and in that there was
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eternal outsider, not even love. Yet women sometimes fell for
with weird little cries.
bring you to town, or take you abroad, and amuse you. You've got to be
unless he and she were verbally very near: that is unless they were
the vast hordes of the middle and lower classes, and foreigners. If the
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child to a rabbit! Tommy Dukes? he was very nice, but somehow you
money, or whether you love your wife, or if you have 'affairs'. All
Clifford left them alone, and she learnt to do the same: she just went
Oh, quite! You've got to get IN. You can do nothing if you are kept
dazed, disappointed, lost.
At the cottage! And would you like to go back to her?'
hardly bear it.'
London. She still wanted the physical, sexual thrill she could get with
monk? All rot and funk, my boy. I must live and do my calculations. I
closed in again, the lid was down, there was a raw coldness. It was
of love, or an entangled appearance.
guarantee myself.'
So she walked away from herself, but after a while she sat down on a
with him she...hesitated. Was it actually her destiny to go on weaving
young laughed no more.
Perhaps they were only waiting for the end; to be cut down, cleared
sensibly, briefly, practically, about all the things Clifford wanted to
That evening he said to her:
course, and he sat mum through the ultimatum.
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gloves, with mauve orchids for Connie, very lovely, and Act I was a
Connie, this is the new game-keeper, Mellors. You haven't spoken to
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he stood with his back to her. There was silence for some minutes. Then
she breathed freer, a new phase was going to begin in her life.
But until life turns a new face on it all, you do agree?'
A faint smile like a sneer came on the man's face. 'Nay, yo mun ax
I know! I know! It should be so! You're FRIGHTFULLY good to me...' he
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He went up to her sitting-room in the morning. She knew he would come.
She heard the man coming lightly downstairs. He opened the door
I'm sure. Say thank you to Lady Chat'ley!'--this last to the child.
and his own position, let it be Lloyd George or who it might. So cut
Clifford? Shall I do that?'
see in a day's march. And you could put some in your room; wild daffs
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human contact.
And he, as he went indoors, was thinking: 'She's nice, she's real!
enough out of it.'
No, not ill. Perhaps I'm bored,' said Connie a little pathetically.
one another, it is a great thing.'
another story out of nothingness: and a story meant money. Clifford
Only something new in the world: the Chatterley books, entirely
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man washing himself in a back yard! No doubt with evil-smelling yellow
What do you mean?' she said.
Out of the disapproving silence came Berry's anxious question:
Connie and I will discuss it,' he said.
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somehow soothing to her, better than the harsh insentience of the outer
he looked just as smart and impressive as ever. He had never been one
had made. With the English nothing could save him from being the
impersonal, almost to idiocy.
Connie took it in good part, even daffs for daffodils. Wild daffodils!
His eyes came to hers in an instant, as if wakened up. He was aware of
cool and contactless assurance that he belonged to the ruling class
indicated a lack of fear, and that these people had no respect for you
stump by the path.
It was strange...the prostitution to the bitch-goddess. To Connie,
was very good to her. When the baby could toddle she'd keep both the
He looked at her admiringly. 'Well, Lady Chatterley, somehow it will! I
keeper here for two years before the war...before he joined up. My
man like any other man. No, he was Mester Ashby, a sort of automatic
truth must be told, he was just a little bit frightened of middle-and
He gave a queer little bow, lifting his hat. 'You did, your Ladyship,'
of will out of yourself brought back to you the mysterious nothingness
It was nearly a mile to the cottage, and Connie senior was well red by
resentment against the ruling class smouldered in her. The masters! In
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For a little while! It's all we can do. We can only do our bit. I feel
hearty, bluffing Sir Malcolm, that artists did advertise themselves,
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sleeping with her than by dancing with her...or even talking to her
soldier!
excitements, that is. Somewhere else they were a little rebuffed,
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rather dark, brown stone cottage, with gables and a handsome chimney,
people were always something of a wonder to her, and when her sympathy
I want this wood perfect...untouched. I want nobody to trespass in
Strangeways with his wife Olive. The talk was much more desultory than
She wanted to say so many things, and she said nothing. Only she looked
I'll take her to a doctor,' said Hilda at length. 'Can you suggest a
in his motor-chair, and Connie walked beside him.
And she saw in his blue, impersonal eyes a look of suffering and
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She looked him in the eyes. His eyes narrowed a little, with irony,
everything, so far. Her 'friend' was a Clifford Chatterley, a young man
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the broad riding that ran up an incline between the clean-whipped
husband was a man you lived with and kept going in spirits. As for sex,
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of money a word on a bit of paper. It was a sort of magic, certainly it
is hardly here in our present day. It was that that really made Connie
She's nicer than she knows.'
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What sort of great thing?' said Tommy.
roundness, somehow they too were going flat, slack, meaningless.
Marriage might...and would...stultify my mental processes. I'm not
The whole point about the sexual problem,' said Hammond, who was a
though I washed him with my own hands. But he was never dead for me, he
you want to make your end. Personally, I consider Bolshevism
When the girls came home for the summer holidays of 1913, when Hilda
Connie was contemplating a winter in London with Clifford, next winter.
Clifford, poor devil.
She was terrifically cheerful at Wragby. And she used all her aroused
The queer thing was, he didn't. He came back towards tea-time with a
himself to do it. He was at once too intimate with her and not intimate
come to her again; just as his outcast soul was knowing he would keep
Vaguely she knew she was out of connexion: she had lost touch with the
the ear of a few million people, probably; and, being a hopeless
good man round here for a gamekeeper...and it needs a man who knows the
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Clifford married Connie, nevertheless, and had his month's honeymoon
another race it wouldn't do; there was no fun merely holding your own,
Why, yes, of course, it would wear Lady Chatterley out! It's a mercy
celandines at the wood's edge, under the hazel-rods, they spangled out
The world is supposed to be full of possibilities, but they narrow down
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porcelain, by external attention. There was nothing inside the
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alone. Clifford was in good hands with Mrs Bolton.
But isn't there something special about him?' Connie insisted.
was finished. There was something curiously childlike and defenceless
porcelain; but she was not even as bright as that. The mental life!
But you've got to begin,' said Clifford.
Her father warned her again: 'Why don't you get yourself a beau,
stand a man hanging round him. Almost better any woman. But why not
were all inwardly hard and separate, and warmth to them was just bad
So that was that!
that will HAVE to be...for the time being.'
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he wasn't telling her the real truth; he wasn't telling himself the
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forgotten the morning. He had not forgotten. But he knew where he
She walked on, listening. And then she noticed a narrow track between
Connie felt as if he had hit her in the face, and she changed colour.
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public, if it comes to that. There's nothing really in my plays to make
away, the end of the forest, for them the end of all things. But
the technicalities of coal-mining. He had previously spent two years at
these stories Sir Malcolm said there was nothing in, and they wouldn't
was just as carefully dressed as ever, by his expensive tailors, and he
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her off. She had another fortnight's parish nursing to do, by rights,
the same curious swift, yet soft movements, as if keeping invisible. He
would come to an end. Mick COULDN'T keep anything up. It was part of
not at all a snob: far too sure of herself. She was perfect at the
Not at all, I'd better not know...But you do agree with me, don't you,
painfulness, yet nothing happened. Only she was getting thinner; even
brown bracken! How safely the birds flitted among them! And once there
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up at him again, and remarked:
notice.
had been frightened, and trying to run away, and not obeying orders, so
tail-between-the-legs look even now. He had pushed his way by sheer
no question of that.'
proud.
never was. I never took it in.'
sociological and artistic matters, they were just as good as the men
both too good to be true.'
think it good? He had to hear it praised: that affected him with the
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isolated, absolutely lone dog again. It was his major necessity, even
me from having to face the battle of life,' he said.
buffers of generals altogether, the red-faced Kitchener supremely. Even
was how she had seen him, like the sudden rush of a threat out of
nowhere.
her cheeks, and burned blue in her eyes. She walked ploddingly, picking
really existing. Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods
What is it, dear? Tell me why you're crying!' she said, with the
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as a first-class modern writer. Connie was aware from successful, old,
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It was natural he should.
together from day to day, not the sleeping together once or twice. You
Very well, Sir Clifford.'
mechanical equipment.
Some birds ARE that way,' he replied. Then, with a touch of familiar
door stood open.
some nursing work, she was very witty in a quiet way about Sir Geoffrey
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our bodies, and then time passes happily without our knowing it.'
they pass like the mating of birds. And so they should. What does it
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The two sisters drove off in the morning, Connie looking rather like an
He avoided the question. 'All the darned women are like that,' he said.
Not it! I don't over-eat myself and I don't over-fuck myself. One has
disintegrated life. If lack of sex is going to disintegrate you, then
It must be! Can't be anybody else's. And it seems to me you don't get
Mrs Bolton also kept a cherishing eye on Connie, feeling she must
Mick sat on tenterhooks, leaning forward in his chair, glaring at her
in some paralysing way, conscious of his own defencelessness, though he
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never noticed things, or had contact with Isis surroundings. In her
the point, of her or anything?
She thought of Michaelis! He was absolutely Clifford's idea of the
womb.
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or up a telescope. He was not in touch. He was not in actual touch with
anything...no touch, no contact! Only this life with Clifford, this
or a woodpecker? It was surely hammering.
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He stayed that time only the three days, and to Clifford was exactly
instinct, so naturally the straight road and the narrow gate are right
brought the roof down over her head. And she had realized that one must
discussions were the great thing: the love-making and connexion were
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much. But I don't think it's wrong, do you?'
mist, with nothingness. And it frightened her. It made him seem
disintegrate you, then have a child if you possibly can. But only do
time would have been thrilled. She just got no feeling from it, she
run that way. And of course men like you think you'll get through
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Why should I?' she asked.
disillusioned any more, an extreme, perhaps, of impurity that is pure.
The miners were nothing. But even so much official uniform as the
consisted in the achievement of an absolute, a perfect, a pure and
And here are the addresses of two women; I saw one of them, she would
and of course I should mind anyone else trying to mix in.'
a choice about eating too much. But you would absolutely starve me.'
these vulgar privacies?
her with two children, one a baby in arms. Oh, the baby was married
Look here, my dear child'--and Lady Bennerley laid her thin hand on
looked sideways, downwards, and the light fell on him, he had the
had been used. She turned down it adventurously, between the thick
When at last he drew away from her, he said, in a bitter, almost
at ten to disturb them. At ten o'clock Connie could go upstairs and be
hurt him so. And if he never knows, never suspects, it hurts nobody.'
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Connie looked at him amazed: and yet she felt nothing. These men, they
and a little arrogant. It was an almost mechanical confidence in her
wrist, but missed the smudge.
seclusion of the wood. It let in the world. But she didn't tell
physical disabilities,' said Clifford. 'All the love-business for
Oh, probably not! I may be a good writer or I may be a bad one, but a
generation. They were so tight, so scared of life!
excursion from her marriage with Clifford; the long, slow habit of
Look here!' he said suddenly at last. 'Why don't you and I make a
deeds of kindness?'
But he still wanted the old intimate evenings of talk with Connie: talk
love her and desire her; and it seems to me the two things are mutually
stare. He looked rather like a huge, boiled crayfish at the moment; or
had called to see Dukes, and was staying the night.
When they came to the hazel grove, Connie suddenly ran forward, and
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to Clifford the blame was torture, like knives goading him. It was as
there he is, all the rage.' Aunt Eva was quite complacently proud of
had begun to burn in Connie. The physical sense of injustice is a
Connie? Do you all the good in the world.'
glorified it were mostly men. Women had always known there was
heavy broad drag of the dialect...perhaps also in mockery, because
And if after the roused intimacy of these vivid and soul-enlightened
wind caught among the twigs. It, too, was caught and trying to tear
bed by myself; and am none the worse for it...I hope so, anyway, for
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Constance strode nearer, with blazing eyes. The man turned and looked
heart beating in spite of herself.
anything to say on the matter.'
sugaries, or I'm done.'
Nothing!' said Connie, rather shamefacedly; but she knew how she had
power over him. For she only had to hold herself back in sexual
LIVE your life, you are in some way an Organic whole with all life. But
first-class literature or not. Strictly, she didn't care. Nothing in
know. He didn't expand or let himself go. He knew he had been asked
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elderly lady.
It marked the end of a chapter. It had a thrill of its own too: a queer
gone.
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till he saw this bare hill. He was having it replanted. But it made him
Not much,' she said truthfully.
Do you like me?'
satisfaction. So that's THAT! Always this was the last utterance: home,
venture very gingerly on that experiment. There was the man to
provincialism of art that goes with pure social ideals.
smile.
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registered everything. At the same time, the infant crying in the night
speculations of these highly-mental gentlemen. But she had to be there.
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Her room was the only gay, modern one in the house, the only spot in
Connie looked, and there, sure enough, was a big black cat, stretched
had rather expected it, and he played up without knowing. So
Only combing my hair, if you don't mind. I'm sorry I hadn't a coat on,
central portion of the house. Clifford's rooms were on the ground
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could.
The worst of it was, Clifford tended to become vague, absent, and to
Either they don't go off at all, as if they were dead in there...or
Connie looked up at him at last. The child, her child, was just an 'it'
Yes, I think so,' she said.
Chatterleys on a rather inadequate income. Clifford had a sister, but
wanted to give it her. Which was enough to keep them connected.
it's going damned dry. Your pure mind is going as dry as fiddlesticks,
on with my teeth clenched, while you go for me!'
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a change, an enormous change from us? WE'RE not men, and the women
intellectual experiments. There may even come a civilization of genuine
Nothing else, Sir?' came the neutral voice, like one in a dream.
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would be a man about thirty-seven or eight.
better than men; they are braver, one can be more frank with them.'
ideas were really not vital enough for it, he was too confused and
perhaps because it was not directed against women; only against men,
tight rebuff against anyone of the lower classes who might be really
the sea...maybe...but the vast masses seem to be mackerel or herring,
Sudden, shuddering quivers of reminiscent sobs. 'Yes!'
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sex-compulsion! I refuse it!'
came into his eyes for a moment, then faded away, and his face was
his face in her lap, remaining motionless. She was perfectly dim and
left him. He remained strange and bright and cheerful, almost, one
another part of oneself.
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the top lay the small blue sky; so that it was like being inside an
down to Wragby to be made use of, and like an old, shrewd, almost
word. Out in the open world, out in the forests of the morning, with
that give pain. It was the furnaces. At first they fascinated Connie
So next day Clifford suggested Mrs Bolton, Tevershall parish nurse.
He was a curious and very gentle lover, very gentle with the woman,
hatred of the thing they call the bourgeois; and what the bourgeois is,
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lower half of his body, from the hips down, paralysed for ever.
silence, nothingness.
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talked everything over with her monotonously, insistently,
Mrs Bolton was most attentive and polite, seemed quite nice, spoke with
pressing the soapy water from his ears, quick, subtle as a weasel
is supposed to.'
industrial Midlands in which they passed their lives. And they were cut
to get clear. But the bonds of such love are more ill to loose even
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himself know, and of which he was uneasily afraid; known as a writer,
or reading aloud. But now she could arrange that Mrs Bolton should come
but still it. His father was a baronet, and his mother had been a
But they shouldn't be!'
But I do live my life, don't I?'
people who stand together on a sinking ship. He had been virgin when he
Not in my idea! Clifford should bring you to London, and let you go
flattered at being asked to Wragby, and they praised. Connie understood
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Connie.
discussions the sex thing became more or less inevitable, then let it.
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whatever's wrong?' he cried. 'You're a shadow of yourself. Why, I never
Chatterley's own parlour. He followed blindly after the servant...he
Unless you like it, of course!' said her father hastily. To Clifford
hooters at Stacks Gate colliery. Clifford was too used to the sound to
fine November...day fine for Wragby. He looked over the melancholy
questions, and he answered with as little waste of feeling as possible.
So it was with Clifford. Once he was 'well', once he was back at
Must one?' said Connie. 'If it has to be preserved, and preserved
her turn; yes, for almost four years she went every Monday. And what
the matter, and far, far more successful. Really, if you looked closely
living blood of the generations to dissolve the vast black clot of
altogether. The end of all things!
downs: that was her England. With the stoicism of the young she took in
was awakened she was quite devoid of class feeling. Michaelis talked
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pleased Connie, this underfoot of sifted, bright pink. It's an ill wind
necessities of a long life? Just use it, since that's what we're driven
melancholy park, of which he was really so proud, though he pretended
manservant. He was absolutely Bond Street! But at right of him
morning. She came to the door in her sacking apron, a blacklead-brush
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it was like beating her head against a stone.
outside. You've got to beat your way in. Once you've done that, you
Mrs Bolton ate with Mrs Betts in the housekeeper's room, since they
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Clifford, you know, crippled like that. They were always a haughty
Till she came to the clearing, at the end of the wood, and saw the
by nothing in it? If the critics praised it, and Clifford's name was
either a god or a Bolshevist...for they are the same thing: they're
you.'
there, amidst the tobacco smoke of those famous evenings of the
away the one in whom it is aroused. Poor Clifford, he was not to blame.
find... excuse me... I find I can't marry an Englishwoman, not even an
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There was Clifford's success: the bitch-goddess! It was true he was
unspeaking reticence of the old trees. They seemed a very power of
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through the war, had seen what it meant. But he didn't get really angry
to him; just as the appearance of conformity and mixing-in with the
he's no right to the woman...' He paused and gazed at her with his
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Sir Geoffrey would have none of the absurdity. He was pale and tense,
he was an officer's servant, and improved on his position. Some of the
aren't women. We're only cerebrating make-shifts, mechanical and
herself, they were very good to her, gave her the parish nursing, and
was getting thinner.
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kind, and at ease.
Why?' she said, a little breathless, as she looked at him. 'You are,
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consequences. You're spending your life without renewing it. You've got
And just take those old papers out, will you?'
into their old places when they get home again.'
Right across the wood! Look, aren't the little daffodils adorable? To
Connie quite liked the life of the mind, and got a great thrill out of
out grimly, with a bit of blood on it.
Why not? What's wrong with rabbits? Are they any worse than a
Chatterley takin' all that trouble over yer! Why, she shouldn't 'ave
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Her body was going meaningless, going dull and opaque, so much
were more or less bent on saving mankind, or on instructing it, to say
ousting her from her union in consciousness with her brother. It was
shaving him, in her soft, tentative woman's way. She was very good and
and his face fresh, his blue eyes pale, and a little prominent, his
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down-slope, she heard the tinkle as of tiny water-bells.
when only the cronies were there, and everybody was a bit bored, for
He looked into Connie's eyes, laconic, contemptuous, not hiding his
below it.
long ago. And Clifford was again thrilled. He was going to be displayed
Connie wondered a little over Clifford's blind, imperious instinct to
It was obvious in them too that love had gone through them: that is,
Oh, good!'
needed money. You had to have it. Money you HAVE to have. You needn't
had some emotion or sympathy in common with a woman you wouldn't sleep
L'AMOUR AVAIT POSS PAR Lˇ, as somebody puts it. But he was a man of
of popular hero. Till the reaction, when he found he had been made
there was no question of contest, she was pining to be superior, to be
was forty-seven.
sisters wept, and loved the young men passionately, but underneath
and envy, envy and spite. Ye shall know the tree by its fruit.'
of herself, and a fair amount of assurance. In short, in her tiny way,
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Eight months, Madam...your Ladyship!' he corrected himself calmly.
the point? It was all cold nonsense.
everything had led up to it.
Well,' he said, 'I don't know. What's the use of my generalizing? I
But in the morning, all the same, she was up at seven, and going
I think people have been so unkind to him,' said Connie.
that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicking
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for trees make a silence even in their noise of wind.
I think you're right, Clifford. And as far as I can see I agree with
You mean you wouldn't mind if he made love to Julia in some discreet
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It was as if the whole thing took place in a vacuum. And since the
you shot it when she was there. No wonder she cried!'
easier,' said Clifford.
No, it's hopeless! I just simply can't vibrate in unison with a woman.
wrong sort of fellow.
Michaelis knew at once he had made an impression on her. He turned his
rat, and Clifford was very much of a poodle showing off.
not tip-toppers, but who are, or would be, the real intelligent power
twenty-seven. The healthy boy with his fresh, clumsy sensuality that
on her breast, and recovering somewhat his effrontery while she lay
speech. Let any woman start a sex conversation with me, and it's
boyish, and unsubstantial, and transparent; instead it had gone opaque.
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So long as you can forget your body you are happy,' said Lady
your Daddy, and he shot a pussy? But it was a bad pussy!'
bobbing their naked white shoulders over crinoline skirts of green. But
to powder, meaning really nothing, blown away on any gust of wind. They
branding him a coward. But there, he was dead, and could say nothing to
insisted on the sex thing like dogs.
served him in his rooms in London. For the rest the place seemed run by
love-business went, something else would take its place. Morphia,
So she hardly ever went away from Wragby, and never for more than a day
every man of my family has done his bit here, since we've had the
hardness and distance. Connie hesitated, she ought to go. But she
He went in front of her down the garden path to hold the gate. In his
taken up quite enthusiastically for a time by smart society in London,
But I am married,' she said, amazed, and yet feeling nothing.
perhaps their strong and aristocratic silence, the silence of strong
Still more sweetness on Connie's part.
with a collier at Stacks Gate, and I believe she's living there still.'
So it seemed to her everywhere. The colliers at Tevershall were talking
queer dread of delivering himself into the hands of a stranger, but
stomach stops you. But it seems to me you might leave the labels off
male at this moment, and parading the sex thing?'
the class that made this discovery this was worse than the dirtiest
The two sisters at once called on Mrs Bolton, in a newish house in a
fault. But Clifford could not take it to heart. To him the authorities
for.'
Anyhow everything was terribly silly, and she was exasperatedly bored
conciliation. And he was neither liked nor disliked by the people: he
point.'...Julia was Hammond's wife.
cleanliness, and strict punctuality; even pretty strict honesty. And
example, it might just as well go. I suppose it would if we could breed
irony: 'but, look here, what about yourself? Aren't you by way of being
But could you have made money except by plays?' asked Clifford.
The chair chuffed slowly up the incline, rocking and jolting on the
woman of forty-odd, in a nurse's uniform, with a white collar and
hopeless affection he seemed to feel for her, and the essential
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wrapped up in himself.'
air. For Connie had got into the habit of sitting still by the fire,
exertions.'
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And the keeper, his thin, white body, like a lonely pistil of an
Unjust! Unjust! The sense of deep physical injustice burned to her very
narrowly, missing nothing. He went pale, with a sort of fear, when he
were happening, really happening, really in the void.
invading the sitting-room, when she and Clifford were alone. So changed
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definitely, yet she moved the lamp till it shone full on her.
even on windless days the air always smelt of something under-earth:
to pieces. Look here, you and I, we're made for one another...hand and
below. Connie was strangely excited in the wood, and the colour flew in
found sixpence. Connie's man could be a bit sulky, and Hilda's a bit
Me!' he said, almost fiercely; 'he'll know nothing from me! You see if
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No!' cried Olive. 'That might leave all the more room for fun.'
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there were four of them. And they all lay down in time, only Ted, and
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darkness of larches. But the icy little spring softly pressed upwards
the Wandervogel songs, and they were free. Free! That was the great
had lost the fresh, round gleam it had had when she was young, in the
and a well-bred sort of emotional anarchy, and a whispering, murmuring
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her knitted jacket, and luckily found a sixpence.
empty treadmill of what Clifford called the integrated life, the long
against the new England? It's sad, I know.'
satisfaction of holding it. But if you were of another class and
What was the good of her sacrifice, her devoting her life to Clifford?
phenomenon, the phenomenon of the high-class folks, so far unknown to
brother was dead in the war. Crippled for ever, knowing he could never
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rose from the chimney, and the little railed-in garden in the front of
were, these bonds of love. But thank Heaven she had loosened them! She
things about me, then I shall know I mean something to you. Don't say
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little yes, gone on a breath! Why should one be pinned down by that
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Rock bottom! The bottom that has no bottom! The Bolshevists will have
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else they had: certainly neither eyes nor minds. The people were as
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unlike a working-man anyhow; although he had something in common with
existed at all.
the forests with sturdy youths bearing guitars, twang-twang! They sang
unfinished, tender flesh, and somehow struggling helplessly.
Tevershall village, a village which began almost at the park gates, and
against her with curious life, elastic, and powerful, rising up. The
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Connie had run out to the steps. Hilda pulled up her car, got out, and
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the driving power was hate. Hate it is, all the same; hate of life
acquiescent in the race! Aeons of acquiescence in race destiny, instead
There, tell me what's the matter, tell me!' said Connie, putting the
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Yes, life is all too simple!'
But we're not rabbits, even so,' said Hammond.
But Clifford was really extremely shy and self-conscious now he was
I may, and be back to tea. May I do anything for you? May I be sure you
and she gave it to him. But she wanted a good deal from the life of a
fascinated him. She was so much more mistress of herself in that outer
quickly, he used any handy rubble in the making.
mustn't go on, MUSTN'T, I tell you, or I won't be answerable for
Ah, shut it up, tha false little bitch!' came the man's angry voice,
wiped her face and took her hand. The keeper saluted in silence.
to the strange male power. But quickly they recovered themselves, took
Connie disliked her; the spoilt, false little female. Nevertheless she
was in his own way more provincial and more timid. He was at his ease
with her. But if you had...'
Lady Bennerley. She was a thin woman of sixty, with a red nose, a
doesn't know, doesn't exist.
death. Therefore let's live the mental life, and glory in our spite,
There's a dear!' laughed Connie, and she moved away, saying 'Good
do very well; a woman of about fifty, quiet, strong, kind, and in her
but once they got inside they made him jump through the hoop.
her. She would have to go back to Wragby and its walls, and now she
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anybody's moral condemnation or prohibition. I'd be ashamed to see a
woman, as even Connie's father could be warm to her, with the warmth of
personal.
flannel-trousers Cambridge intransigents, who gently mocked at
now, Edith, to a young man in Boots Cash Chemists in Sheffield. The
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The air was soft and dead, as if all the world were slowly dying. Grey
Nevertheless Michaelis had his apartment in Mayfair, and walked down
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been so much hurt that something inside him had perished, some of his
They didn't get on so well without her; their ideas didn't flow so
a certain pleasure. In the very experience of the nothingness of life,
it was very good of you, but you shouldn't 'ave bothered. Why, did ever
perfectly unchangingly melancholy, or stoical, or disillusioned or
there was a cat, and it wouldn't jump. They all alike talked at
your tongue between your teeth and bite it. You just say out your say.
don't hate me?--and that you won't?'--he ended with a desperate note of
herself: Silly fool, wetting hankies! As if that would get you
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by saying there was nothing in Clifford's writing? What else could
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for that great, weary warren. But then it was a word that had had its
almost to tears. Beneath his pale, immobile, disillusioned face, his
alone he tapped-tapped-tapped on a typewriter, to infinity. But when he
playing with water, and utterly alone. Connie backed away round the
I'm sorry we can't have a son,' she said.
force according to certain ideas. We drive ourselves with a formula,
silently. So they would dip through the day and the long cold night. So
floor. 'The world has grown pale with thy breath.' But it was the
The game-keeper, Mellors, is a curious kind of person,' she said to
for a woman to go off is much of a game for a man...'
one direction, sets me poles apart from them as far as kissing is
is you don't talk with any interest. And in the same way, unless you
But she could not help feeling how little connexion he really had with
intimacy which was beyond sex, and beyond a man's 'satisfaction'.
attended classes in ambulance, and then the fourth year she even took a
Go it, you two minds!' he said. 'Look at me...I don't do any high and
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brought down like that! And it's very hard on Lady Chatterley, perhaps
There was Charles May, an Irishman, who wrote scientifically about
MAN. Why, one might even rather hate him, personally. Yet if he was the
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the whole show with a smash; the house of cards. Her whole sexual
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to hold, and their rule was really a farce, not rule at all? What was
much stupider!
in the narrow 'great world', that is, landed aristocracy society, but
was Wragby merely by Mrs Bolton's coming.
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there is no problem. We don't want to follow a man into the w.c., so
laugh came on his face.
chair, but Connie would go out. She went out alone every day now,
Time went on. Whatever happened, nothing happened, because she was so
Aren't all men wrapped up in themselves?' she asked.
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Look at the way you are shut up here. I said to Clifford: If that
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in the most modern magazines, and were praised and blamed as usual. But
having a child, and giving an heir to Wragby. But the day after, all
and being friendly and intimate. How can they?'
physical side of it.'
before it had ever really lived. She thought of the child she might
with, and no immortal works to write. I'm merely a fellow skulking in
the stench of this sulphurous combustion of the earth's excrement. But
The light of battle glowed in Hilda's face; she was a woman, soft and
At least it's wonderful what you've done at your time of life,' said
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riding that swerved round and up through the larches to a spring called
and he wanted to be hopeless. He rather hated hope. 'UNE IMMENSE
with a curious laugh; hollow, triumphant, and bitter.
really have anything else. So that's that!
among the students, they argued with the men over philosophical,
The government releasing ether into the air on Saturdays, for a
isolated, shut in with one another at Wragby, in spite of all their
the brilliant words seemed like dead leaves, crumpling up and turning
He had so very nearly lost his life, that what remained was wonderfully
been a drinking-place for hundreds of years. Now no more. Its tiny
tapping away on the right, and stood still to listen. Was it hammering,
And as it spread in him, Connie felt it spread in her. An inward dread,
quite time man began to improve on his own nature, especially the
instinct and sheerer effrontery on to the stage and to the front of it,
abeyance. How would you like me to start acting up like a continental
shrimp-coloured on dry days, darker, crab-coloured on wet. Now it was
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When she got home Clifford asked her:
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rather breathless voice.
Michaelis; but no healthy human sensuality, that warms the blood and
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She's a little thinner,' he said.
instead of a democracy of pocket.'
women, and babies in bottles, and Dukes says the phallus is the bridge
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preferred him to Clifford. Back went the sisters to the Midlands.
In what way doesn't it suit her?' he asked stiffly.
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frozen clods. And suddenly, on the left, came a clearing where there
they stood it. A few first bleached little primroses too, by the path,
enclosure.
resurrection of the body! Except a grain of wheat fall into the earth
ridiculous, chopping down his trees, and weeding men out of his
Frankly, no! Nothing I had noticed.'
little girl, isn't it?'
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The men resented it...she should have pretended to hear nothing. They
stood by her, she would say that for them. And she'd done it ever
should really have a manservant,' said Hilda as they sat, with apparent
of her haunches and her buttocks had lost its gleam and its sense of
Come on! Let's make hay of Bolshevism!' said Dukes.
that showed he was displeased. 'Mellors would have done it.'
bluish in the sockets of the tufts. Across the park ran a path to the
I'm not as good as her for all that!--which she always heard twanging
smoky mist. And the haze seemed to be creeping forward. So when he
a grievance: that was obvious to any true-born English gentleman, who
good Charleston, happiness was a term of hypocrisy used to bluff other
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Yes, the Company's been very good to ME, I always say it. But I should
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moment to consider. 'Perhaps!' she said. And she looked up at him. 'I
he obviously wasn't an Englishman: the wrong sort of flattish, pale
following winter she would get him abroad to the South of France,
didn't take the love-making altogether personally. He knew it would not
Clifford was yellow at the gills with anger, and at evening the whites
little yard two paces beyond her, the man was washing himself, utterly
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real truth, that was it. He disliked any suggestion of a really
Connie felt that she herself didn't really, not really touch him;
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Why shouldn't I think of you?' she exclaimed, with hardly breath to
You've got the life of the mind sound and intact. So let us hear your
Chapter 4
satisfied whatever they get, let a woman do what she may.
connected with a typewriter, 'is that there is no point to it. Strictly
good one round here?'
Clifford steered cautiously down the slope of the knoll from the hall,
against any sort of real authority. Fathers were ridiculous: his own
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channels ready-made, used by all the other R. A.s who sold their
home in gangs on the asphalt from work, that was terrible and a bit
Silence fell. The four men smoked. And Connie sat there and put another
For Connie had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the
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seemed pure, pure as an African ivory mask that dreams impurity into
He looked at her curiously, uneasily, half-suspiciously. And she felt
to be amused, properly, healthily amused. You're spending your vitality
strong, his hands were very strong. He was expensively dressed, and
feelings had gone. There was a blank of insentience.
Oh damn it all! If a fellow's going to trade on his disabilities, I
frank, and superficially kind. Inside herself she was a past-mistress
excitement that bucked you up for a while, then left you more raggy
and feeling you belonged to the ruling class. What was the point, when
hatters, barbers, booters of the very best quarter of London. No, no,
but still not loudly. There was no answer. She peeped through the
I should have to think about it,' she said. 'I couldn't say now. It
very display of himself that should capture for a time the vast
supremely: the impassioned interchange of talk. Love was only a minor
else they wait till a chap's really done, and then they start in to
Connie was moving away 'Well, thank you ever so much, Lady Chat'ley,
of the park where grey damp sheep were feeding, to the knoll where the
eye cast for a second on the sixpence. Then more sobs, but subduing.
breaking the threads gently, one by one, with patience and impatience
The grandmother had been blackleading the stove, it was Saturday
Very good, your Ladyship. I will see to it at once.'
Help us to get rid of our bodies altogether,' said Winterslow. 'It's
fellow of the previous evening, millions of degrees remote from his
and softly rubbed the bristles. The stand-offishness and the lack of
it's quite true. I suppose we might exchange as many sensations and
family, standoffish in a way, as they've a right to be. But then to be
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couldn't associate him with a baby, another generation. He ended in
deputation, not even a single flower. Only a dank ride in a motor-car
And now, I suppose you'll hate me!' he said in a quiet, inevitable
that the casual sex thing is nothing, compared to the long life lived
butterfly word? Of course it had to flutter away and be gone, to be
problem of life the slow building up of an integral personality,
with swaying waists fucking little jazz girls with small boy buttocks,
and even that she didn't want. She preferred the lesser amount which
tonic, something to live up to. It was not that she and Clifford were
There!'
Thank you,' piped the child.
I'm rather worse than anybody else, myself. Because I infinitely prefer
seemed worn out, and her dissatisfaction was older than the hills.
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call her a parlour-maid, or even a woman...who waited at table, had
nonexistent south of the Trent. But in the Midlands and the industrial
sex; at least not the simple function of sex. You and I are interwoven
He and she had caught the bus all right, so they might as well ride on
Every sort of a good time, damn it, every sort! Dress, jewels up to a
yourself cold and be very estimable, and hold your own, and enjoy the
the war was ridiculous, though it did kill rather a lot of people.
fills all the psyche. And when we think we have recovered and
carried heavenwards along with their own thin sticks.
Clifford sat with a fixed face as the chair slowly mounted. When they
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belong...among the English upper classes. And how they enjoyed the
child was upset.'
when she wasn't asked out somewhere. Young folks enjoyed themselves
stammer a welcome.
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the screens at the pit, the puff of the winding-engine, the clink-clink
comfortable family job in the government: he also wrote philosophical
glance. A man very much alone, and on his own.
in him that ancient motionlessness of a race that can't be
Yes, talking...'
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clear it was! Brilliant! The new keeper had no doubt put in fresh
restlessness. It made her heart beat violently for no reason. And she
Her husband, Ted Bolton, had been killed in the pit, twenty-two years
It's an amusing idea, Charlie,' said Dukes, 'that sex is just another
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window, and saw the dark little room, with its almost sinister privacy,
But the stranger knew. To Connie, everything in her world and life
quickly, courteously, to close it.
You're quite wonderful, in my opinion,' she said to Connie. 'You've
opened the gate into the park. As she stood holding it, the two men
assertive, more hesitant.
was altogether rather supercilious and contemptuous of anyone not in
and yellow buds unfolding themselves.
see him. Connie nearly always had somebody at Wragby. But if they
I hope I am; naturally,' she said. 'Anyhow the future's going to have
almost. It seems to me that it isn't these little acts and little
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They were rather earnest about the Tommies, and the threat of
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Well, we've been waiting for years...we wait longer. Hate's a growing
crumple of her waist at the back, as she bent back to look, was a
country-looking girl, inclined to freckles, with big blue eyes, and
breathed differently. But still she was afraid of how many of her
neurotic, revolutionary humanity, full of nervous hate?'
long time: took off all her clothes, and looked at herself naked in the
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things we feel against one another by saying false sugaries. It's a
But what do you think of Bolshevism?' put in the brown Berry, as if
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something better, something higher. And now they knew it more
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child. She strode swinging down the wet drive, her sullen resentment
to bed with her. Just as, when you are interested talking to someone,
was crying out of his breast to her, in a way that affected her very
calmness, at coffee after dinner. She spoke in her soft, seemingly
So she plodded home to Clifford, to join forces with him again, to make
She was stunned by this unexpected piece of brutality, at the moment
Mellors!' called Clifford.
scramble over the obstacles. We've got to live, no matter how many
Oh, all right! I'm quite willing. But I'm darned if hanging on waiting
You're coming round to my room tonight, aren't you? I don't darn know
spite of the illustrated papers. No, no! There's nothing organically
In the wood all was utterly inert and motionless, only great drops fell
till they could crowd no more, and the plant was dying. Now quietly,
because they left him no real privacy. And a manservant!...he couldn't
roots, perhaps mortal ones, were tangled with Clifford's. Yet still,
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off he was, so divorced from the England that was really England, so
taken sufficiently into account. A woman could take a man without
revealed his nature. His manner was often offensively supercilious, and
noble freedom. What else did a girl's life mean? To shake off the old
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hair. He stared straight into Connie's eyes, with a perfect, fearless,
yourself are a plucked apple...you've fallen off the tree. And then it
years, and it would cost thousands to put it out. So it had to burn.
So this man is alone?'
If your Ladyship wishes.'
Hilda talked to Clifford, who still had yellow eyeballs when they got
morning down to the offices, and stand there a couple of hours waiting
How do you know I can? It may not suit the process of my mind.
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so he says, and quite incompetent. But I keep him. And I'm going to
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was so glad to be alone, not always to have to talk to him. When he was
Come in again in half an hour.'
loved; so she said to herself. But her love was somehow only an
to his daughter: As for Clifford's writing, it's smart, but there's
a wheeled chair, and he had a sort of bath-chair with a motor
though they did not know it.
looked at her in passing, Clifford critically, the other man with a
Where does it lie, as far as we're concerned? We're all intelligent
Did you? But where is your Gran?'
done wonders for Clifford. I never saw any budding genius myself, and
And the authorities felt ridiculous, and behaved in a rather ridiculous
little weary; and it used to be so gay-looking. And the longish slope
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dollars from America alone. Sometimes he was handsome: sometimes as he
plenty to think about till then.' He kissed her hands humbly and was
started it, she did not want him. It was as if she never positively
uncomfortable than if she had said things.
Oh!' she said in repulsion.
lower-class humanity, and of foreigners not of his own class. He was,
somebody. And you are labelled ARNOLD B. HAMMOND, C/O MRS ARNOLD B.
He wrote to Connie with the same plaintive melancholy note as ever,
But a child, a baby! That was still one of the sensations. She would
it lay inside her. But with her mind she was inclined to ridicule. A
half-witted; but so do I consider our social life in the west
would have liked to snarl at one another, but which smiled instead,
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him; the Chatterley stories, something new in the world, that THEY, the
Blacksmith on the pit-bank, I believe: overhead smith. But he was
John's Well. It was cold on this hillside, and not a flower in the
other, there'd be no problem. It's all utterly senseless and pointless;
simply lived for their young women. In their minds and their mental
the end Michaelis did him most nobly in a play, and Clifford was a sort
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pilchard sort of little slip of a girl, she's a bonny Scotch trout.'
lusty and splendid-throated young fellows, free to do as they liked,
Clifford, however, inside himself, never quite forgave Connie for
Oh...it perfects the intimacy,' said Clifford, uneasy as a woman in
fall of the haunches from the socket of the back, and the slumberous,
seemed to be. No, the intimacy was deeper, more personal than that. And