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

"Women in Love"

He was
acutely aware of Gerald's hand on his shoulder. And he did not want
this altercation. He wanted the other man to come out of the ugly
misery.
'I'll tell you another time,' said Gerald coaxingly.
'Come along with me now--I want you to come,' said Birkin.
There was a pause, intense and real. Birkin wondered why his own heart
beat so heavily. Then Gerald's fingers gripped hard and communicative
into Birkin's shoulder, as he said:
'No, I'll see this job through, Rupert. Thank you--I know what you
mean. We're all right, you know, you and me.'
'I may be all right, but I'm sure you're not, mucking about here,' said
Birkin. And he went away.
The bodies of the dead were not recovered till towards dawn. Diana had
her arms tight round the neck of the young man, choking him.
'She killed him,' said Gerald.
The moon sloped down the sky and sank at last. The lake was sunk to
quarter size, it had horrible raw banks of clay, that smelled of raw
rottenish water. Dawn roused faintly behind the eastern hill.


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