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

"Women in Love"

Already the rose was fading,
large white stars were flashing out. He waited. He would forego
everything but the yearning.
'That was the most perfect thing I have ever seen,' she said in cold,
brutal tones, when at last she turned round to him. 'It amazes me that
you should want to destroy it. If you can't see it yourself, why try to
debar me?' But in reality, he had destroyed it for her, she was
straining after a dead effect.
'One day,' he said, softly, looking up at her, 'I shall destroy YOU, as
you stand looking at the sunset; because you are such a liar.'
There was a soft, voluptuous promise to himself in the words. She was
chilled but arrogant.
'Ha!' she said. 'I am not afraid of your threats!' She denied herself
to him, she kept her room rigidly private to herself. But he waited on,
in a curious patience, belonging to his yearning for her.
'In the end,' he said to himself with real voluptuous promise, 'when it
reaches that point, I shall do away with her.' And he trembled
delicately in every limb, in anticipation, as he trembled in his most
violent accesses of passionate approach to her, trembling with too much
desire.


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