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22-Jul-2017 09:13

And if after the roused intimacy of these vivid and soul-enlightened discussions the sex thing became more or less inevitable, then let it. It had a thrill of its own too: a queer vibrating thrill inside the body, a final spasm of self-assertion, like the last word, exciting, and very like the row of asterisks that can be put to show the end of a paragraph, and a break in the theme.

When the girls came home for the summer holidays of 1913, when Hilda was twenty and Connie eighteen, their father could see plainly that they had had the love experience. But he was a man of experience himself, and let life take its course. 'Even when he's soft and little I feel my heart simply tied to him.

The amazing, the profound, the unbelievable thrill there was in passionately talking to some really clever young man by the hour, resuming day after day for months..they had never realized till it happened!

The paradisal promise: Thou shalt have men to talk to! It was fulfilled before they knew what a promise it was.

They came to start housekeeping and married life in the rather forlorn home of the Chatterleys on a rather inadequate income. He remained strange and bright and cheerful, almost, one might say, chirpy, with his ruddy, healthy-looking face, and his pale-blue, challenging bright eyes. Nothing in it at all but the small chest of drawers and the smallish bed. And in the corner by the window gable was a shelf with some books, and some from a circulating library. There were books about Bolshevist Russia, books of travel, a volume about the atom and the electron, another about the composition of the earth's core, and the causes of earthquakes: then a few novels: then three books on India. It was a clear clean morning with birds flying and triumphantly singing. If only there weren't the other ghastly world of smoke and iron! She came downstairs, down the steep, narrow wooden stairs. They went almost in silence through the lovely dewy wood. There was a letter from Hilda on the breakfast-tray. I have about six hundred a year, I wrote and asked. 'And weren't you happy, when you were a lieutenant and an officer and a gentleman?

His shoulders were broad and strong, his hands were very strong. ' And softly, he laid his hand over her mound of Venus, on the soft brown maiden-hair, and himself sat still and naked on the bed, his face motionless in physical abstraction, almost like the face of Buddha. He called from the foot of the stairs: 'Half past seven! Still she would be content with this little house, if only it were in a world of its own. 'Father is going to London this week, and I shall call for you on Thursday week, June 17th. I don't want to waste time at Wragby, it's an awful place. I don't much care what I do.' 'Doesn't it make you happy?

One was less in love with the boy afterwards, and a little inclined to hate him, as if he had trespassed on one's privacy and inner freedom. And every night now he played pontoon, that game of the Tommies, with Mrs Bolton, gambling with sixpences. ' 'I'm as sure as I can be of anything, that I shall come back.' 'Yes!

For, of course, being a girl, one's whole dignity and meaning in life consisted in the achievement of an absolute, a perfect, a pure and noble freedom. To shake off the old and sordid connexions and subjections. A woman had to yield him what he wanted, or like a child he would probably turn nasty and flounce away and spoil what was a very pleasant connexion. And again, in the gambling he was gone in a kind of unconsciousness, or blank intoxication, or intoxication of blankness, whatever it was. But when she had gone to bed, he and Mrs Bolton would gamble on till two and three in the morning, safely, and with strange lust. ' Connie expostulated roundly, and was angry with both of them. the twentieth of July.' Strangely and blankly he looked at her, with the vagueness of a child, but with the queer blank cunning of an old man.

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Certainly she could take him without giving herself into his power. Sharp soft waves of unspeakable pleasure washed over her as he entered her, and started the curious molten thrilling that spread and spread till she was carried away with the last, blind flush of extremity.

As for the mother, a nervous invalid in the last few months of her life, she wanted her girls to be 'free', and to 'fulfil themselves'. 'Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in kindred love,' he said.

She herself had never been able to be altogether herself: it had been denied her.

Rather she could use this sex thing to have power over him. He heard the distant hooters of Stacks Gate for seven o'clock. He shivered a little, and with his face between her breasts pressed her soft breasts up over his ears, to deafen him. She lay perfectly still, her soul washed transparent.

For she only had to hold herself back in sexual intercourse, and let him finish and expend himself without herself coming to the crisis: and then she could prolong the connexion and achieve her orgasm and her crisis while he was merely her tool. Ay, he's got a will of his own, an' it's hard to suit him. Both sisters had had their love experience by the time the war came, and they were hurried home. ' and she quickly kissed the soft penis, that was beginning to stir again. ' said the man, stretching his body almost painfully. Yet I wouldn't have him killed.' 'No wonder men have always been afraid of him! 'He's rather terrible.' The quiver was going through the man's body, as the stream of consciousness again changed its direction, turning downwards.



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