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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"Women in Love"

Yet he chuckled within himself also.
She came over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, looking down at
him with strange golden-lighted eyes, very tender, but with a curious
devilish look lurking underneath.
'Say you love me, say "my love" to me,' she pleaded
He looked back into her eyes, and saw. His face flickered with sardonic
comprehension.
'I love you right enough,' he said, grimly. 'But I want it to be
something else.'
'But why? But why?' she insisted, bending her wonderful luminous face
to him. 'Why isn't it enough?'
'Because we can go one better,' he said, putting his arms round her.
'No, we can't,' she said, in a strong, voluptuous voice of yielding.
'We can only love each other. Say "my love" to me, say it, say it.'
She put her arms round his neck. He enfolded her, and kissed her
subtly, murmuring in a subtle voice of love, and irony, and submission:
'Yes,--my love, yes,--my love. Let love be enough then. I love you
then--I love you. I'm bored by the rest.


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