suddenly, fixing his eyes on her with almost hypnotic power, and sending out
an appeal that affected her direct in the womb.
She stared at him, dazed and transfixed, and he went over and kneeled
beside her, and took her two feet close in his two hands, and buried his
face in her lap, remaining motionless. She was perfectly dim and dazed,
looking down in a sort of amazement at the rather tender nape of his neck,
feeling his face pressing her thighs. In all her burning dismay, she could
not help putting her hand, with tenderness and compassion, on the
defenceless nape of his neck, and he trembled, with a deep shudder.
Then he looked up at her with that awful appeal in his full, glowing
eyes. She was utterly incapable of resisting it. From her breast flowed the
answering, immense yearning over him; she must give him anything, anything.
He was a curious and very gentle lover, very gentle with the woman,
trembling uncontrollably, and yet at the same time detached, aware, aware of
every sound outside.
To her it meant nothing except that she gave herself to him. And at
length he ceased to quiver any more, and lay quite still, quite still. Then,
with dim, compassionate fingers, she stroked his head, that lay on her
breast.
When he rose, he kissed both her hands, then both her feet, in their
suġde slippers, and in silence went away to the end of the room, where he
stood with his back to her. There was silence for some minutes. Then he
turned and came to her again as she sat in her old place by the fire.
`And now, I suppose you'll hate me!' he said in a quiet, inevitable
way. She looked up at him quickly.
`Why should I?' she asked.
`They mostly do,' he said; then he caught himself up. `I mean...a woman
is supposed to.'
`This is the last moment when I ought to hate you,' she said
resentfully.
`I know! I know! It should be so! You're frightfully good to me...' he
cried miserably.
She wondered why he should be miserable. `Won't you sit down again?'
she said. He glanced at the door.
`Sir Clifford!' he said, `won't he...won't he be...?' She paused a
moment to consider. `Perhaps!' she said. And she looked up at him. `I don't
want Clifford to know not even to suspect. It would hurt him so much. But I
don't think it's wrong, do you?'
`Wrong! Good God, no! You're only too infinitely good to me...I can
hardly bear it.'
He turned aside, and she saw that in another moment he would be
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