Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

He went and sat on the stone bench in the back-yard, where
the big milk-cans were standing, tipped up, to air. The men were
in the cowsheds. He could hear the little sing-song of the milk
spurting into the pails. Presently she came, bringing some big
greenish apples.
"You know you like them," she said.
He took a bite.
"Sit down," he said, with his mouth full.
She was short-sighted, and peered over his shoulder.
It irritated him. He gave her the book quickly.
"Here," he said. "It's only letters for figures. You put
down 'a' instead of '2' or '6'."
They worked, he talking, she with her head down on the book.
He was quick and hasty. She never answered. Occasionally, when he
demanded of her, "Do you see?" she looked up at him, her eyes wide
with the half-laugh that comes of fear. "Don't you?" he cried.
He had been too fast. But she said nothing. He questioned
her more, then got hot. It made his blood rouse to see her there,
as it were, at his mercy, her mouth open, her eyes dilated with
laughter that was afraid, apologetic, ashamed. Then Edgar came
along with two buckets of milk.
"Hello!" he said. "What are you doing?"
"Algebra," replied Paul.
"Algebra!" repeated Edgar curiously. Then he passed on with
a laugh. Paul took a bite at his forgotten apple, looked at the
miserable cabbages in the garden, pecked into lace by the fowls,
and he wanted to pull them up. Then he glanced at Miriam.
She was poring over the book, seemed absorbed in it, yet trembling
lest she could not get at it. It made him cross. She was ruddy
and beautiful. Yet her soul seemed to be intensely supplicating.
The algebra-book she closed, shrinking, knowing he was angered;
and at the same instant he grew gentle, seeing her hurt because she did
not understand.
But things came slowly to her. And when she held herself
in a grip, seemed so utterly humble before the lesson, it made his
blood rouse. He stormed at her, got ashamed, continued the lesson,
and grew furious again, abusing her. She listened in silence.
Occasionally, very rarely, she defended herself. Her liquid dark