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

"Women in Love"

The warmth and motion of her walk
suffused through him wonderfully.
'I'm SO glad if I help you,' she said.
'Yes,' he answered. 'There's nobody else could do it, if you wouldn't.'
'That is true,' she said to herself, with a thrill of strange, fatal
elation.
As they walked, he seemed to lift her nearer and nearer to himself,
till she moved upon the firm vehicle of his body.
He was so strong, so sustaining, and he could not be opposed. She
drifted along in a wonderful interfusion of physical motion, down the
dark, blowy hillside. Far across shone the little yellow lights of
Beldover, many of them, spread in a thick patch on another dark hill.
But he and she were walking in perfect, isolated darkness, outside the
world.
'But how much do you care for me!' came her voice, almost querulous.
'You see, I don't know, I don't understand!'
'How much!' His voice rang with a painful elation. 'I don't know
either--but everything.' He was startled by his own declaration. It was
true. So he stripped himself of every safeguard, in making this
admission to her.


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