Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

Miriam was indignant at anybody's forcing the issues between them.
She had been furious with her own father for suggesting to Paul,
laughingly, that he knew why he came so much.
"Who says?" she asked, wondering if her people had anything
to do with it. They had not.
"Mother--and the others. They say at this rate everybody will
consider me engaged, and I ought to consider myself so, because it's
not fair to you. And I've tried to find out--and I don't think I
love you as a man ought to love his wife. What do you think about it?"
Miriam bowed her head moodily. She was angry at having
this struggle. People should leave him and her alone.
"I don't know," she murmured.
"Do you think we love each other enough to marry?"
he asked definitely. It made her tremble.
"No," she answered truthfully. "I don't think so--we're
too young."
"I thought perhaps," he went on miserably, "that you, with your
intensity in things, might have given me more--than I could ever make
up to you. And even now--if you think it better--we'll be engaged."
Now Miriam wanted to cry. And she was angry, too. He was
always such a child for people to do as they liked with.
"No, I don't think so," she said firmly.
He pondered a minute.
"You see," he said, "with me--I don't think one person would
ever monopolize me--be everything to me--I think never."
This she did not consider.
"No," she murmured. Then, after a pause, she looked at him,
and her dark eyes flashed.
"This is your mother," she said. "I know she never liked me."
"No, no, it isn't," he said hastily. "It was for your sake