Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

would he go?
The army had not really done him any good. He resented
bitterly the authority of the officers. He hated having to obey
as if he were an animal. But he had too much sense to kick.
So he turned his attention to getting the best out of it.
He could sing, he was a boon-companion. Often he got into scrapes,
but they were the manly scrapes that are easily condoned. So he made
a good time out of it, whilst his self-respect was in suppression.
He trusted to his good looks and handsome figure, his refinement,
his decent education to get him most of what he wanted, and he
was not disappointed. Yet he was restless. Something seemed
to gnaw him inside. He was never still, he was never alone.
With his mother he was rather humble. Paul he admired and loved
and despised slightly. And Paul admired and loved and despised
him slightly.
Mrs. Morel had had a few pounds left to her by her father,
and she decided to buy her son out of the army. He was wild with joy.
Now he was like a lad taking a holiday.
He had always been fond of Beatrice Wyld, and during his furlough
he picked up with her again. She was stronger and better in health.
The two often went long walks together, Arthur taking her arm
in soldier's fashion, rather stiffly. And she came to play the
piano whilst he sang. Then Arthur would unhook his tunic collar.
He grew flushed, his eyes were bright, he sang in a manly tenor.
Afterwards they sat together on the sofa. He seemed to flaunt
his body: she was aware of him so--the strong chest, the sides,
the thighs in their close-fitting trousers.
He liked to lapse into the dialect when he talked to her.
She would sometimes smoke with him. Occasionally she
would only take a few whiffs at his cigarette.
"Nay," he said to her one evening, when she reached
for his cigarette. "Nay, tha doesna. I'll gi'e thee a smoke
kiss if ter's a mind."
"I wanted a whiff, no kiss at all," she answered.
"Well, an' tha s'lt ha'e a whiff," he said, "along wi' t' kiss."
"I want a draw at thy fag," she cried, snatching for the
cigarette between his lips.
He was sitting with his shoulder touching her. She was small
and quick as lightning. He just escaped.
"I'll gi'e thee a smoke kiss," he said.