David Herbert Lawrence

thing of mystery and fascination, a lady. When she spoke to him, it was

with a southern pronunciation and a purity of English which thrilled

him to hear. She watched him. He danced well, as if it were natural and

joyous in him to dance. His grandfather was a French refugee who had

married an English barmaid--if it had been a marriage. Gertrude Coppard

watched the young miner as he danced, a certain subtle exultation like

glamour in his movement, and his face the flower of his body, ruddy,

with tumbled black hair, and laughing alike whatever partner he bowed

above. She thought him rather wonderful, never having met anyone like

him. Her father was to her the type of all men. And George Coppard,

proud in his bearing, handsome, and rather bitter; who preferred

theology in reading, and who drew near in sympathy only to one man, the

Apostle Paul; who was harsh in government, and in familiarity ironic;

who ignored all sensuous pleasure:--he was very different from the

miner. Gertrude herself was rather contemptuous of dancing; she had not

the slightest inclination towards that accomplishment, and had never

learned even a Roger de Coverley. She was puritan, like her father,

high-minded, and really stern. Therefore the dusky, golden softness of

this man's sensuous flame of life, that flowed off his flesh like the

flame from a candle, not baffled and gripped into incandescence by

thought and spirit as her life was, seemed to her something wonderful,

beyond her.

He came and bowed above her. A warmth radiated through her as if she had

drunk wine.

"Now do come and have this one wi' me," he said caressively. "It's easy,

you know. I'm pining to see you dance."

She had told him before she could not dance. She glanced at his humility

and smiled. Her smile was very beautiful. It moved the man so that he

forgot everything.

"No, I won't dance," she said softly. Her words came clean and ringing.

Not knowing what he was doing--he often did the right thing by

instinct--he sat beside her, inclining reverentially.

"But you mustn't miss your dance," she reproved.

"Nay, I don't want to dance that--it's not one as I care about."

"Yet you invited me to it."

He laughed very heartily at this.

"I never thought o' that. Tha'rt not long in taking the curl out of me."

It was her turn to laugh quickly.

"You don't look as if you'd come much uncurled," she said.

"I'm like a pig's tail, I curl because I canna help it," he laughed,

rather boisterously.

"And you are a miner!" she exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes. I went down when I was ten."

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