Themanlayflatonhisstomachonthefloor，hisneckpressedback，wrigglingundertheengineandpokingwithhisfinger。Conniethoughtwhatapatheticsortofthingamanwas，feebleandsmall-looking，whenhewaslyingonhisbellyonthebigearth。
`SeemsallrightasfarasIcansee，’camehismuffledvoice。
`Idon’tsupposeyoucandoanything，’saidClifford。
`SeemsasifIcan’t!’Andhescrambledupandsatonhisheels，collierfashion。`There’scertainlynothingobviouslybroken。’
Cliffordstartedhisengine，thenputheringear。Shewouldnotmove。
`Runherabithard，like，’suggestedthekeeper。
Cliffordresentedtheinterference：buthemadehisenginebuzzlikeablue-bottle。Thenshecoughedandsnarledandseemedtogobetter。
`Soundsasifshe’dcomeclear，’saidMellors。
ButCliffordhadalreadyjerkedherintogear。Shegaveasicklurchandebbedweaklyforwards。
`IfIgiveherapush，she’lldoit，’saidthekeeper，goingbehind。
`Keepoff!’snappedClifford。`She’lldoitbyherself。’
`ButClifford!’putinConniefromthebank，`youknowit’stoomuchforher。Whyareyousoobstinate!’
Cliffordwaspalewithanger。Hejabbedathislevers。Thechairgaveasortofscurry，reeledonafewmoreyards，andcametoherendamidaparticularlypromisingpatchofbluebells。
`She’sdone!’saidthekeeper。`Notpowerenough。’
`She’sbeenupherebefore，’saidCliffordcoldly。
`Shewon’tdoitthistime，’saidthekeeper。
Clifforddidnotreply。Hebegandoingthingswithhisengine，runningherfastandslowasiftogetsomesortoftuneoutofher。Thewoodre-echoedwithweirdnoises。Thenheputheringearwithajerk，havingjerkedoffhisbrake。
`You’llripherinsideout，’murmuredthekeeper。
Thechairchargedinasicklurchsidewaysattheditch。
`Clifford!’criedConnie，rushingforward。
Butthekeeperhadgotthechairbytherail。Clifford，however，puttingonallhispressure，managedtosteerintotheriding，andwithastrangenoisethechairwasfightingthehill。Mellorspushedsteadilybehind，andupshewent，asiftoretrieveherself。
`Yousee，she’sdoingit!’saidClifford，victorious，glancingoverhisshoulder。Therehesawthekeeper’sface。
`Areyoupushingher？’
`Shewon’tdoitwithout。’
`Leaveheralone。Iaskedyounot。
`Shewon’tdoit。’
`Lethertry!’snarledClifford，withallhisemphasis。
Thekeeperstoodback：thenturnedtofetchhiscoatandgun。Thechairseemedtostrangeimmediately。Shestoodinert。Clifford，seatedaprisoner，waswhitewithvexation。Hejerkedattheleverswithhishand，hisfeetwerenogood。Hegotqueernoisesoutofher。Insavageimpatiencehemovedlittlehandlesandgotmorenoisesoutofher。Butshewouldnotbudge。
No，shewouldnotbudge。Hestoppedtheengineandsatrigidwithanger。
Constancesatonthebankaridlookedatthewretchedandtrampledbluebells。
`NothingquitesolovelyasanEnglishspring。’`Icandomyshareofruling。’
`Whatweneedtotakeupnowiswhips，notswords。’`Therulingclasses!’
Thekeeperstrodeupwithhiscoatandgun，Flossiecautiouslyathisheels。Cliffordaskedthemantodosomethingorothertotheengine。Connie，whounderstoodnothingatallofthetechnicalitiesofmotors，andwhohadhadexperienceofbreakdowns，satpatientlyonthebankasifshewereacipher。Thekeeperlayonhisstomachagain。Therulingclassesandtheservingclasses!
Hegottohisfeetandsaidpatiently：
`Tryheragain，then。’
Hespokeinaquietvoice，almostasiftoachild。
Cliffordtriedher，andMellorssteppedquicklybehindandbegantopush。Shewasgoing，theenginedoingabouthalfthework，themantherest。
Cliffordglancedround，yellowwithanger。
`Willyougetoffthere!’
Thekeeperdroppedhisholdatonce，andCliffordadded：`HowshallIknowwhatsheisdoing!’
Themanputhisgundownandbegantopullonhiscoat。He’ddone。
Thechairbeganslowlytorunbackwards。
`Clifford，yourbrake!’criedConnie。
She，Mellors，andCliffordmovedatonce，Connieandthekeeperjostlinglightly。Thechairstood。Therewasamomentofdeadsilence。
`It’sobviousI’mateverybody’smercy!’saidClifford。Hewasyellowwithanger。
Nooneanswered。Mellorswasslinginghisgunoverhisshoulder，hisfacequeerandexpressionless，saveforanabstractedlookofpatience。
ThedogFlossie，standingonguardalmostbetweenhermaster’slegs，moveduneasily，eyeingthechairwithgreatsuspicionanddislike，andverymuchperplexedbetweenthethreehumanbeings。Thetableauvivantremainedsetamongthesquashedbluebells，nobodyprofferingaword。
`Iexpectshe’llhavetobepushed，’saidCliffordatlast，withanaffectationofsangfroid。
Noanswer。Mellors’abstractedfacelookedasifhehadheardnothing。
Connieglancedanxiouslyathim。Cliffordtooglancedround。
`Doyoumindpushingherhome，Mellors!’hesaidinacoolsuperiortone。`IhopeIhavesaidnothingtooffendyou，’headded，inatoneofdislike。
`Nothingatall，SirClifford!Doyouwantmetopushthatchair？’
`Ifyouplease。’
Themansteppeduptoit：butthistimeitwaswithouteffect。Thebrakewasjammed。Theypokedandpulled，andthekeepertookoffhisgunandhiscoatoncemore。AndnowCliffordsaidneveraword。Atlastthekeeperheavedthebackofthechairoffthegroundand，withaninstantaneouspushofhisfoot，triedtoloosenthewheels。Hefailed，thechairsank。
Cliffordwasclutchingthesides。Themangaspedwiththeweight。
`Don’tdoit!’criedConnietohim。
`Ifyou’llpullthewheelthatway，so!’hesaidtoher，showingherhow。
`No!Youmustn’tliftit!You’llstrainyourself，’shesaid，flushednowwithanger。
Buthelookedintohereyesandnodded。Andshehadtogoandtakeholdofthewheel，ready。Heheavedandshetugged，andthechairreeled。
`ForGod’ssake!’criedCliffordinterror。
Butitwasallright，andthebrakewasoff。Thekeeperputastoneunderthewheel，andwenttositonthebank，hisheartbeatandhisfacewhitewiththeeffort，semi-conscious。
Connielookedathim，andalmostcriedwithanger。Therewasapauseandadeadsilence。Shesawhishandstremblingonhisthighs。
`Haveyouhurtyourself？’sheasked，goingtohim。
`No。No!’Heturnedawayalmostangrily。
Therewasdeadsilence。ThebackofClifford’sfairheaddidnotmove。
Eventhedogstoodmotionless。Theskyhadcloudedover。
Atlasthesighed，andblewhisnoseonhisredhandkerchief。
`Thatpneumoniatookalotoutofme，’hesaid。
Nooneanswered。ConniecalculatedtheamountofstrengthitmusthavetakentoheaveupthatchairandthebulkyClifford：toomuch，fartoomuch!Ifithadn’tkilledhim!
Herose，andagainpickeduphiscoat，slingingitthroughthehandleofthechair。
`Areyouready，then，SirClifford？’
`Whenyouare!’
Hestoopedandtookoutthescotch，thenputhisweightagainstthechair。HewaspalerthanConniehadeverseenhim：andmoreabsent。Cliffordwasaheavyman：andthehillwassteep。Conniesteppedtothekeeper’sside。
`I’mgoingtopushtoo!’shesaid。
Andshebegantoshovewithawoman’sturbulentenergyofanger。Thechairwentfaster。Cliffordlookedround。
`Isthatnecessary？’hesaid。
`Very!Doyouwanttokilltheman!Ifyou’dletthemotorworkwhileitwould——’
Butshedidnotfinish。Shewasalreadypanting。Sheslackenedoffalittle，foritwassurprisinglyhardwork。
`Ay!slower!’saidthemanatherside，withafaintsmileofhiseyes。
`Areyousureyou’venothurtyourself？’shesaidfiercely。
Heshookhishead。Shelookedathissmallish，short，alivehand，brownedbytheweather。Itwasthehandthatcaressedher。Shehadneverevenlookedatitbefore。Itseemedsostill，likehim，withacuriousinwardstillnessthatmadeherwanttoclutchit，asifshecouldnotreachit。Allhersoulsuddenlyswepttowardshim：hewassosilent，andoutofreach!Andhefelthislimbsrevive。Shovingwithhislefthand，helaidhisrightonherroundwhitewrist，softlyenfoldingherwrist，withacaress。Andtheflameofstrengthwentdownhisbackandhisloins，revivinghim。Andshebentsuddenlyandkissedhishand。MeanwhilethebackofClifford’sheadwasheldsleekandmotionless，justinfrontofthem。
Atthetopofthehilltheyrested，andConniewasgladtoletgo。Shehadhadfugitivedreamsoffriendshipbetweenthesetwomen：oneherhusband，theotherthefatherofherchild。Nowshesawthescreamingabsurdityofherdreams。Thetwomaleswereashostileasfireandwater。Theymutuallyexterminatedoneanother。Andsherealizedforthefirsttimewhataqueersubtlethinghateis。Forthefirsttime，shehadconsciouslyanddefinitelyhatedClifford，withvividhate：asifheoughttobeobliteratedfromthefaceoftheearth。Anditwasstrange，howfreeandfulloflifeitmadeherfeel，tohatehimandtoadmititfullytoherself——`NowI’vehatedhim，Ishallneverbeabletogoonlivingwithhim，’camethethoughtintohermind。
Onthelevelthekeepercouldpushthechairalone。Cliffordmadealittleconversationwithher，toshowhiscompletecomposure：aboutAuntEva，whowasatDieppe，andaboutSirMalcolm，whohadwrittentoaskwouldConniedrivewithhiminhissmallcar，toVenice，orwouldsheandHildagobytrain。
`I’dmuchrathergobytrain，’saidConnie。`Idon’tlikelongmotordrives，especiallywhenthere’sdust。ButIshallseewhatHildawants。’
`Shewillwanttodriveherowncar，andtakeyouwithher，’hesaid。
`Probably!——Imusthelpuphere。You’venoideahowheavythischairis。’
Shewenttothebackofthechair，andploddedsidebysidewiththekeeper，shovingupthepinkpath。Shedidnotcarewhosaw。
`Whynotletmewait，andfetchField？Heisstrongenoughforthejob，’
saidClifford。
`It’ssonear，’shepanted。
ButbothsheandMellorswipedthesweatfromtheirfaceswhentheycametothetop。Itwascurious，butthisbitofworktogetherhadbroughtthemmuchcloserthantheyhadbeenbefore。
`Thankssomuch，Mellors，’saidClifford，whentheywereatthehousedoor。`Imustgetadifferentsortofmotor，that’sall。Won’tyougotothekitchenandhaveameal？Itmustbeabouttime。’
`Thankyou，SirClifford。Iwasgoingtomymotherfordinnertoday，Sunday。’
`Asyoulike。’
Mellorsslungintohiscoat，lookedatConnie，saluted，andwasgone。
Connie，furious，wentupstairs。
Atlunchshecouldnotcontainherfeeling。
`Whyareyousoabominablyinconsiderate，Clifford？’shesaidtohim。
`Ofwhom？’
`Ofthekeeper!Ifthatiswhatyoucallrulingclasses，I’msorryforyou。’
`Why？’
`Amanwho’sbeenill，andisn’tstrong!Myword，ifIweretheservingclasses，I’dletyouwaitforservice。I’dletyouwhistle。’
`Iquitebelieveit。’
`Ifhe’dbeensittinginachairwithparalysedlegs，andbehavedasyoubehaved，whatwouldyouhavedoneforhim？’
`Mydearevangelist，thisconfusingofpersonsandpersonalitiesisinbadtaste。’
`Andyournasty，sterilewantofcommonsympathyisintheworsttasteimaginable。Noblesseoblige!Youandyourrulingclass!’
`Andtowhatshoulditobligeme？Tohavealotofunnecessaryemotionsaboutmygame-keeper？Irefuse。Ileaveitalltomyevangelist。’
`Asifheweren’tamanasmuchasyouare，myword!’
`Mygame-keepertoboot，andIpayhimtwopoundsaweekandgivehimahouse。’
`Payhim!Whatdoyouthinkyoupayfor，withtwopoundsaweekandahouse？’
`Hisservices。’
`Bah!Iwouldtellyoutokeepyourtwopoundsaweekandyourhouse。’
`Probablyhewouldliketo：butcan’taffordtheluxury!’
`You，andrule!’shesaid。`Youdon’trule，don’tflatteryourself。
Youhaveonlygotmorethanyourshareofthemoney，andmakepeopleworkforyoufortwopoundsaweek，orthreatenthemwithstarvation。Rule!
Whatdoyougiveforthofrule？Why，youredriedup!Youonlybullywithyourmoney，likeanyJeworanySchieber!’
`Youareveryelegantinyourspeech，LadyChatterley!’
`Iassureyou，youwereveryelegantaltogetheroutthereinthewood。
Iwasutterlyashamedofyou。Why，myfatheristentimesthehumanbeingyouare：yougentleman!’
HereachedandrangthebellforMrsBolton。Buthewasyellowatthegills。
Shewentuptoherroom，furious，sayingtoherself：`Himandbuyingpeople!Well，hedoesn’tbuyme，andthereforethere’snoneedformetostaywithhim。Deadfishofagentleman，withhiscelluloidsoul!Andhowtheytakeonein，withtheirmannersandtheirmockwistfulnessandgentleness。
They’vegotaboutasmuchfeelingascelluloidhas。’
Shemadeherplansforthenight，anddeterminedtogetCliffordoffhermind。Shedidn’twanttohatehim。Shedidn’twanttobemixedupveryintimatelywithhiminanysortoffeeling。Shewantedhimnottoknowanythingatallaboutherself：andespecially，nottoknowanythingaboutherfeelingforthekeeper。Thissquabbleofherattitudetotheservantswasanoldone。Hefoundhertoofamiliar，shefoundhimstupidlyinsentient，toughandindiarubberywhereotherpeoplewereconcerned。
Shewentdownstairscalmly，withherolddemurebearing，atdinner-time。
Hewasstillyellowatthegills：inforoneofhisliverbouts，whenhewasreallyveryqueer——HewasreadingaFrenchbook。
`HaveyoueverreadProust？’heaskedher。
`I’vetried，butheboresme。’
`He’sreallyveryextraordinary。’
`Possibly!Butheboresme：allthatsophistication!Hedoesn’thavefeelings，heonlyhasstreamsofwordsaboutfeelings。I’mtiredofself-importantmentalities。’