`Oh，you’requiteright!’hesaid，turninghisheadaway，andlookingsideways，downwards，withthatstrangeimmobilityofanoldracethatishardlyhereinourpresentday。ItwasthatthatreallymadeConnieloseherpowertoseehimdetachedfromherself。
Helookedupatherwiththefullglancethatsaweverything，registeredeverything。Atthesametime，theinfantcryinginthenightwascryingoutofhisbreasttoher，inawaythataffectedherverywomb。
`It’sawfullyniceofyoutothinkofme，’hesaidlaconically。
`Whyshouldn’tIthinkofyou？’sheexclaimed，withhardlybreathtoutterit。
Hegavethewry，quickhissofalaugh。
`Oh，inthatway!……MayIholdyourhandforaminute？’heaskedsuddenly，fixinghiseyesonherwithalmosthypnoticpower，andsendingoutanappealthataffectedherdirectinthewomb。
Shestaredathim，dazedandtransfixed，andhewentoverandkneeledbesideher，andtookhertwofeetcloseinhistwohands，andburiedhisfaceinherlap，remainingmotionless。Shewasperfectlydimanddazed，lookingdowninasortofamazementattherathertendernapeofhisneck，feelinghisfacepressingherthighs。Inallherburningdismay，shecouldnothelpputtingherhand，withtendernessandcompassion，onthedefencelessnapeofhisneck，andhetrembled，withadeepshudder。
Thenhelookedupatherwiththatawfulappealinhisfull，glowingeyes。Shewasutterlyincapableofresistingit。Fromherbreastflowedtheanswering，immenseyearningoverhim；shemustgivehimanything，anything。
Hewasacuriousandverygentlelover，verygentlewiththewoman，tremblinguncontrollably，andyetatthesametimedetached，aware，awareofeverysoundoutside。
Toheritmeantnothingexceptthatshegaveherselftohim。Andatlengthheceasedtoquiveranymore，andlayquitestill，quitestill。
Then，withdim，compassionatefingers，shestrokedhishead，thatlayonherbreast。
Whenherose，hekissedbothherhands，thenbothherfeet，intheirsuè；deslippers，andinsilencewentawaytotheendoftheroom，wherehestoodwithhisbacktoher。Therewassilenceforsomeminutes。
Thenheturnedandcametoheragainasshesatinheroldplacebythefire。
`Andnow，Isupposeyou’llhateme!’hesaidinaquiet，inevitableway。Shelookedupathimquickly。
`WhyshouldI？’sheasked。
`Theymostlydo，’hesaid；thenhecaughthimselfup。`Imean……awomanissupposedto。’
`ThisisthelastmomentwhenIoughttohateyou，’shesaidresentfully。
`Iknow!Iknow!Itshouldbeso!You’refrightfullygoodtome……’hecriedmiserably。
Shewonderedwhyheshouldbemiserable。`Won’tyousitdownagain？’
shesaid。Heglancedatthedoor。
`SirClifford!’hesaid，`won’the……won’thebe……？’Shepausedamomenttoconsider。`Perhaps!’shesaid。Andshelookedupathim。`Idon’twantCliffordtoknownoteventosuspect。Itwouldhurthimsomuch。
ButIdon’tthinkit’swrong，doyou？’
`Wrong!GoodGod，no!You’reonlytooinfinitelygoodtome……Icanhardlybearit。’
Heturnedaside，andshesawthatinanothermomenthewouldbesobbing。
`Butweneedn’tletCliffordknow，needwe？’shepleaded。`Itwouldhurthimso。Andifheneverknows，neversuspects，ithurtsnobody。’
`Me!’hesaid，almostfiercely；`he’llknownothingfromme!Youseeifhedoes。Megivemyselfaway!Ha!Ha!’helaughedhollowly，cynically，atsuchanidea。Shewatchedhiminwonder。Hesaidtoher：`MayIkissyourhandaridgo？I’llrunintoSheffieldIthink，andlunchthere，ifImay，andbebacktotea。MayIdoanythingforyou？MayIbesureyoudon’thateme？——andthatyouwon’t？’——heendedwithadesperatenoteofcynicism。
`No，Idon’thateyou，’shesaid。`Ithinkyou’renice。’
`Ah!’hesaidtoherfiercely，`I’dratheryousaidthattomethansaidyouloveme!Itmeanssuchalotmore……Tillafternoonthen。I’veplentytothinkabouttillthen。’Hekissedherhandshumblyandwasgone。
`Idon’tthinkIcanstandthatyoungman，’saidCliffordatlunch。
`Why？’askedConnie。
`He’ssuchabounderunderneathhisveneer……justwaitingtobounceus。’
`Ithinkpeoplehavebeensounkindtohim，’saidConnie。
`Doyouwonder？Anddoyouthinkheemployshisshininghoursdoingdeedsofkindness？’
`Ithinkhehasacertainsortofgenerosity。’
`Towardswhom？’
`Idon’tquiteknow。’
`Naturallyyoudon’t。I’mafraidyoumistakeunscrupulousnessforgenerosity。’
Conniepaused。Didshe？Itwasjustpossible。YettheunscrupulousnessofMichaelishadacertainfascinationforher。HewentwholelengthswhereCliffordonlycreptafewtimidpaces。Inhiswayhehadconqueredtheworld，whichwaswhatCliffordwantedtodo。Waysandmeans……？WerethoseofMichaelismoredespicablethanthoseofClifford？Wasthewaythepooroutsiderhadshovedandbouncedhimselfforwardinperson，andbythebackdoors，anyworsethanClifford’swayofadvertisinghimselfintoprominence？
Thebitch-goddess，Success，wastrailedbythousandsofgasping，dogswithlollingtongues。Theonethatgotherfirstwastherealdogamongdogs，ifyougobysuccess!SoMichaeliscouldkeephistailup。
Thequeerthingwas，hedidn’t。Hecamebacktowardstea-timewithalargehandfulofvioletsandlilies，andthesamehang-dogexpression。
Conniewonderedsometimesifitwereasortofmasktodisarmopposition，becauseitwasalmosttoofixed。Washereallysuchasaddog？
Hissad-dogsortofextinguishedselfpersistedalltheevening，thoughthroughitCliffordfelttheinnereffrontery。Conniedidn’tfeelit，perhapsbecauseitwasnotdirectedagainstwomen；onlyagainstmen，andtheirpresumptionsandassumptions。Thatindestructible，inwardeffronteryinthemeagrefellowwaswhatmademensodownonMichaelis。Hisverypresencewasanaffronttoamanofsociety，cloakitashemightinanassumedgoodmanner。
Conniewasinlovewithhim，butshemanagedtositwithherembroideryandletthementalk，andnotgiveherselfaway。AsforMichaelis，hewasperfect；exactlythesamemelancholic，attentive，aloofyoungfellowofthepreviousevening，millionsofdegreesremotefromhishosts，butlaconicallyplayinguptothemtotherequiredamount，andnevercomingforthtothemforamoment。Conniefelthemusthaveforgottenthemorning。Hehadnotforgotten。Butheknewwherehewas……inthesameoldplaceoutside，wherethebornoutsidersare。Hedidn’ttakethelove-makingaltogetherpersonally。
Heknewitwouldnotchangehimfromanownerlessdog，whomeverybodybegrudgesitsgoldencollar，intoacomfortablesocietydog。
Thefinalfactbeingthatattheverybottomofhissoulhewasanoutsider，andanti-social，andheacceptedthefactinwardly，nomatterhowBond-Streetyhewasontheoutside。Hisisolationwasanecessitytohim；justastheappearanceofconformityandmixing-inwiththesmartpeoplewasalsoanecessity。
Butoccasionallove，asacomfortaridsoothing，wasalsoagoodthing，andhewasnotungrateful。Onthecontrary，hewasburningly，poignantlygratefulforapieceofnatural，spontaneouskindness：almosttotears。
Beneathhispale，immobile，disillusionedface，hischild’ssoulwassobbingwithgratitudetothewoman，andburningtocometoheragain；justashisoutcastsoulwasknowinghewouldkeepreallyclearofher。
Hefoundanopportunitytosaytoher，astheywerelightingthecandlesinthehall：
`MayIcome？’
`I’llcometoyou，’shesaid。
`Oh，good!’
Hewaitedforheralongtime……butshecame。
Hewasthetremblingexcitedsortoflover，whosecrisissooncame，andwasfinished。Therewassomethingcuriouslychildlikeanddefencelessabouthisnakedbody：aschildrenarenaked。Hisdefenceswereallinhiswitsandcunning，hisveryinstinctsofcunning，andwhenthesewereinabeyanceheseemeddoublynakedandlikeachild，ofunfinished，tenderflesh，andsomehowstrugglinghelplessly。
Herousedinthewomanawildsortofcompassionandyearning，andawild，cravingphysicaldesire。Thephysicaldesirehedidnotsatisfyinher；hewasalwayscomeandfinishedsoquickly，thenshrinkingdownonherbreast，andrecoveringsomewhathiseffronterywhileshelaydazed，disappointed，lost。
Butthenshesoonlearnttoholdhim，tokeephimthereinsideherwhenhiscrisiswasover。Andtherehewasgenerousandcuriouslypotent；hestayedfirminsideher，givingtoher，whileshewasactive……wildly，passionatelyactive，comingtoherowncrisis。Andashefeltthefrenzyofherachievingherownorgasmicsatisfactionfromhishard，erectpassivity，hehadacurioussenseofprideandsatisfaction。
`Ah，howgood!’shewhisperedtremulously，andshebecamequitestill，clingingtohim。Andhelaythereinhisownisolation，butsomehowproud。
Hestayedthattimeonlythethreedays，andtoCliffordwasexactlythesameasonthefirstevening；toConniealso。Therewasnobreakingdownhisexternalman。
HewrotetoConniewiththesameplaintivemelancholynoteasever，sometimeswitty，andtouchedwithaqueer，sexlessaffection。Akindofhopelessaffectionheseemedtofeelforher，andtheessentialremotenessremainedthesame。Hewashopelessattheverycoreofhim，andhewantedtobehopeless。Heratherhatedhope。`Uneimmenseespé；ranceatraversé；laterre’，hereadsomewhere，andhiscommentwas：`——andit’sdarned-welldrownedeverythingworthhaving。’
Connieneverreallyunderstoodhim，but，inherway，shelovedhim。
Andallthetimeshefeltthereflectionofhishopelessnessinher。Shecouldn’tquite，quiteloveinhopelessness。Andhe，beinghopeless，couldn’teverquiteloveatall。
Sotheywentonforquiteatime，writing，andmeetingoccasionallyinLondon。Shestillwantedthephysical，sexualthrillshecouldgetwithhimbyherownactivity，hislittleorgasmbeingover。Andhestillwantedtogiveither。Whichwasenoughtokeepthemconnected。
Andenoughtogiveherasubtlesortofself-assurance，somethingblindandalittlearrogant。Itwasanalmostmechanicalconfidenceinherownpowers，andwentwithagreatcheerfulness。
ShewasterrificallycheerfulatWragby。AndsheusedallherarousedcheerfulnessandsatisfactiontostimulateClifford，sothathewrotehisbestatthistime，andwasalmosthappyinhisstrangeblindway。HereallyreapedthefruitsofthesensualsatisfactionshegotoutofMichaelis’
malepassivityerectinsideher。Butofcourseheneverknewit，andifhehad，hewouldn’thavesaidthankyou!
Yetwhenthosedaysofhergrandjoyfulcheerfulnessandstimulusweregone，quitegone，andshewasdepressedandirritable，howCliffordlongedforthemagain!Perhapsifhe’dknownhemightevenhavewishedtogetherandMichaelistogetheragain。
Chapter4
ConniealwayshadaforebodingofthehopelessnessofheraffairwithMick，aspeoplecalledhim。Yetothermenseemedtomeannothingtoher。
ShewasattachedtoClifford。Hewantedagooddealofherlifeandshegaveittohim。Butshewantedagooddealfromthelifeofaman，andthisClifforddidnotgiveher；couldnot。TherewereoccasionalspasmsofMichaelis。But，assheknewbyforeboding，thatwouldcometoanend。
Mickcouldn’tkeepanythingup。Itwaspartofhisverybeingthathemustbreakoffanyconnexion，andbeloose，isolated，absolutelylonedogagain。Itwashismajornecessity，eventhoughhealwayssaid：Sheturnedmedown!
Theworldissupposedtobefullofpossibilities，buttheynarrowdowntoprettyfewinmostpersonalexperience。There’slotsofgoodfishinthesea……maybe……butthevastmassesseemtobemackerelorherring，andifyou’renotmackerelorherringyourselfyouarelikelytofindveryfewgoodfishinthesea。
Cliffordwasmakingstridesintofame，andevenmoney。Peoplecametoseehim。ConnienearlyalwayshadsomebodyatWragby。Butiftheyweren’tmackereltheywereherring，withanoccasionalcat-fish，orconger-eel。
Therewereafewregularmen，constants；menwhohadbeenatCambridgewithClifford。TherewasTommyDukes，whohadremainedinthearmy，andwasaBrigadier-General。`Thearmyleavesmetimetothink，andsavesmefromhavingtofacethebattleoflife，’hesaid。
TherewasCharlesMay，anIrishman，whowrotescientificallyaboutstars。
TherewasHammond，anotherwriter。AllwereaboutthesameageasClifford；
theyoungintellectualsoftheday。Theyallbelievedinthelifeofthemind。Whatyoudidapartfromthatwasyourprivateaffair，anddidn’tmuchmatter。Noonethinksofinquiringofanotherpersonatwhathourheretirestotheprivy。Itisn’tinterestingtoanyonebutthepersonconcerned。
Andsowithmostofthemattersofordinarylife……howyoumakeyourmoney，orwhetheryouloveyourwife，orifyouhave`affairs’。Allthesemattersconcernonlythepersonconcerned，and，likegoingtotheprivy，havenointerestforanyoneelse。
`Thewholepointaboutthesexualproblem，’saidHammond，whowasatallthinfellowwithawifeandtwochildren，butmuchmorecloselyconnectedwithatypewriter，`isthatthereisnopointtoit。Strictlythereisnoproblem。Wedon’twanttofollowamanintothew。c。，sowhyshouldwewanttofollowhimintobedwithawoman？Andthereinlieheproblem。
Ifwetooknomorenoticeoftheonethingthantheother，there’dbenoproblem。It’sallutterlysenselessandpointless；amatterofmisplacedcuriosity。’
`Quite，Hammond，quite!ButifsomeonestartsmakinglovetoJulia，youbegintosimmer；andifhegoeson，youaresoonatboilingpoint。’……JuliawasHammond’swife。
`Why，exactly!SoIshouldbeifhebegantourinateinacornerofmydrawing-room。There’saplaceforallthesethings。’
`Youmeanyouwouldn’tmindifhemadelovetoJuliainsomediscreetalcove？’
CharlieMaywasslightlysatirical，forhehadflirtedaverylittlewithJulia，andHammondhadcutupveryroughly。
`OfcourseIshouldmind。SexisaprivatethingbetweenmeandJulia；
andofcourseIshouldmindanyoneelsetryingtomixin。’