Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

her in her talk. There was a lot of room at the oval table; the china
of dark blue willow-pattern looked pretty on the glossy cloth.
There was a little bowl of small, yellow chrysanthemums.
Clara felt she completed the circle, and it was a pleasure to her.
But she was rather afraid of the self-possession of the Morels,
father and all. She took their tone; there was a feeling of balance.
It was a cool, clear atmosphere, where everyone was himself,
and in harmony. Clara enjoyed it, but there was a fear deep at the
bottom of her.
Paul cleared the table whilst his mother and Clara talked.
Clara was conscious of his quick, vigorous body as it came and went,
seeming blown quickly by a wind at its work. It was almost like
the hither and thither of a leaf that comes unexpected. Most of herself
went with him. By the way she leaned forward, as if listening,
Mrs. Morel could see she was possessed elsewhere as she talked,
and again the elder woman was sorry for her.
Having finished, he strolled down the garden, leaving the two
women to talk. It was a hazy, sunny afternoon, mild and soft.
Clara glanced through the window after him as he loitered among
the chrysanthemums. She felt as if something almost tangible fastened
her to him; yet he seemed so easy in his graceful, indolent movement,
so detached as he tied up the too-heavy flower branches to their stakes,
that she wanted to shriek in her helplessness.
Mrs. Morel rose.
"You will let me help you wash up," said Clara.
"Eh, there are so few, it will only take a minute," said the other.
Clara, however, dried the tea-things, and was glad to be on
such good terms with his mother; but it was torture not to be able
to follow him down the garden. At last she allowed herself to go;
she felt as if a rope were taken off her ankle.
The afternoon was golden over the hills of Derbyshire. He stood
across in the other garden, beside a bush of pale Michaelmas daisies,
watching the last bees crawl into the hive. Hearing her coming,
he turned to her with an easy motion, saying:
"It's the end of the run with these chaps."
Clara stood near him. Over the low red wall in front was
the country and the far-off hills, all golden dim.
At that moment Miriam was entering through the garden-door.
She saw Clara go up to him, saw him turn, and saw them come to
rest together. Something in their perfect isolation together made