David Herbert Lawrence

anything to say on the matter.'

`Not at all,' said Dukes; `the top of you's by no means hors de combat.

You've got the life of the mind sound and intact. So let us hear your

ideas.'

`Well,' stammered Clifford, `even then I don't suppose I have much

idea...I suppose marry-and-have-done-with-it would pretty well stand for

what I think. Though of course between a man and woman who care for one

another, it is a great thing.'

`What sort of great thing?' said Tommy.

`Oh...it perfects the intimacy,' said Clifford, uneasy as a woman in

such talk.

`Well, Charlie and I believe that sex is a sort of communication like

speech. Let any woman start a sex conversation with me, and it's natural for

me to go to bed with her to finish it, all in due season. Unfortunately no

woman makes any particular start with me, so I go to bed by myself; and am

none the worse for it...I hope so, anyway, for how should I know? Anyhow

I've no starry calculations to be interfered with, and no immortal works to

write. I'm merely a fellow skulking in the army...'

Silence fell. The four men smoked. And Connie sat there and put another

stitch in her sewing...Yes, she sat there! She had to sit mum. She had to be

quiet as a mouse, not to interfere with the immensely important speculations

of these highly-mental gentlemen. But she had to be there. They didn't get

on so well without her; their ideas didn't flow so freely. Clifford was much

more hedgy and nervous, he got cold feet much quicker in Connie's absence,

and the talk didn't run. Tommy Dukes came off best; he was a little inspired

by her presence. Hammond she didn't really like; he seemed so selfish in a

mental way. And Charles May, though she liked something about him, seemed a

little distasteful and messy, in spite of his stars.

How many evenings had Connie sat and listened to the manifestations of

these four men! these, and one or two others. That they never seemed to get

anywhere didn't trouble her deeply. She liked to hear what they had to say,

especially when Tommy was there. It was fun. Instead of men kissing you, and

touching you with their bodies, they revealed their minds to you. It was

great fun! But what cold minds!

And also it was a little irritating. She had more respect for

Michaelis, on whose name they all poured such withering contempt, as a

little mongrel arriviste, and uneducated bounder of the worst sort. Mongrel

and bounder or not, he jumped to his own conclusions. He didn't merely walk

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