Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

"I can do it myself," she replied. When it was done she
went upstairs, telling him to rake the fire and lock the door.
In the morning Mrs. Morel said:
"I knocked against the latch of the coal-place, when I
was getting a raker in the dark, because the candle blew out."
Her two small children looked up at her with wide, dismayed eyes.
They said nothing, but their parted lips seemed to express the
unconscious tragedy they felt.
Walter Morel lay in bed next day until nearly dinner-time. He
did not think of the previous evening's work. He scarcely thought
of anything, but he would not think of that. He lay and suffered like
a sulking dog. He had hurt himself most; and he was the more damaged
because he would never say a word to her, or express his sorrow.
He tried to wriggle out of it. "It was her own fault," he said
to himself. Nothing, however, could prevent his inner consciousness
inflicting on him the punishment which ate into his spirit like rust,
and which he could only alleviate by drinking.
He felt as if he had not the initiative to get up, or to say a word,
or to move, but could only lie like a log. Moreover, he had himself
violent pains in the head. It was Saturday. Towards noon he rose,
cut himself food in the pantry, ate it with his head dropped,
then pulled on his boots, and went out, to return at three o'clock
slightly tipsy and relieved; then once more straight to bed.
He rose again at six in the evening, had tea and went straight out.
Sunday was the same: bed till noon, the Palmerston Arms till
2.30, dinner, and bed; scarcely a word spoken. When Mrs. Morel
went upstairs, towards four o'clock, to put on her Sunday dress,
he was fast asleep. She would have felt sorry for him, if he
had once said, "Wife, I'm sorry." But no; he insisted to himself
it was her fault. And so he broke himself. So she merely left
him alone. There was this deadlock of passion between them,
and she was stronger.
The family began tea. Sunday was the only day when all sat
down to meals together.
"Isn't my father going to get up?" asked William.
"Let him lie," the mother replied.
There was a feeling of misery over all the house. The children
breathed the air that was poisoned, and they felt dreary. They were
rather disconsolate, did not know what to do, what to play at.
Immediately Morel woke he got straight out of bed. That was