Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

of speaking so about Miriam. After all, the girl was the better woman
of the two, he thought, if it came to goodness. He went indoors.
His mother looked excited. She was beating with her hand
rhythmically on the sofa-arm, as women do who are wearing out.
He could never bear to see the movement. There was a silence;
then he began to talk.
In chapel Miriam saw him find the place in the hymn-book
for Clara, in exactly the same way as he used for herself.
And during the sermon he could see the girl across the chapel,
her hat throwing a dark shadow over her face. What did she think,
seeing Clara with him? He did not stop to consider. He felt himself
cruel towards Miriam.
After chapel he went over Pentrich with Clara. It was a dark
autumn night. They had said good-bye to Miriam, and his heart had
smitten him as he left the girl alone. "But it serves her right,"
he said inside himself, and it almost gave him pleasure to go off
under her eyes with this other handsome woman.
There was a scent of damp leaves in the darkness. Clara's hand
lay warm and inert in his own as they walked. He was full of conflict.
The battle that raged inside him made him feel desperate.
Up Pentrich Hill Clara leaned against him as he went.
He slid his arm round her waist. Feeling the strong motion
of her body under his arm as she walked, the tightness in his
chest because of Miriam relaxed, and the hot blood bathed him.
He held her closer and closer.
Then: "You still keep on with Miriam," she said quietly.
"Only talk. There never WAS a great deal more than talk
between us," he said bitterly.
"Your mother doesn't care for her," said Clara.
"No, or I might have married her. But it's all up really!"
Suddenly his voice went passionate with hate.
"If I was with her now, we should be jawing about the 'Christian
Mystery', or some such tack. Thank God, I'm not!"
They walked on in silence for some time.
"But you can't really give her up," said Clara.