Sheglancedathimangrily。`Nowonderthechildcried，’shesaid，`ifyoushotitwhenshewasthere。Nowondershecried!’
HelookedintoConnie’seyes，laconic，contemptuous，nothidinghisfeelings。AndagainConnieflushed；shefeltshehadbeenmakingascene，themandidnotrespecther。
`Whatisyourname？’shesaidplayfullytothechild。`Won’tyoutellmeyourname？’
Sniffs；thenveryaffectedlyinapipingvoice：`ConnieMellors!’
`ConnieMellors!Well，that’sanicename!AnddidyoucomeoutwithyourDaddy，andheshotapussy？Butitwasabadpussy!’
Thechildlookedather，withbold，darkeyesofscrutiny，sizingherup，andhercondolence。
`IwantedtostopwithmyGran，’saidthelittlegirl。
`Didyou？ButwhereisyourGran？’
Thechildliftedanarm，pointingdownthedrive。`Atth’cottidge。’
`Atthecottage!Andwouldyouliketogobacktoher？’
Sudden，shudderingquiversofreminiscentsobs。`Yes!’
`Comethen，shallItakeyou？ShallItakeyoutoyourGran？ThenyourDaddycandowhathehastodo。’Sheturnedtotheman。`Itisyourlittlegirl，isn’tit？’
Hesaluted，andmadeaslightmovementoftheheadinaffirmation。
`IsupposeIcantakehertothecottage？’askedConnie。
`IfyourLadyshipwishes。’
Againhelookedintohereyes，withthatcalm，searchingdetachedglance。
Amanverymuchalone，andonhisown。
`Wouldyouliketocomewithmetothecottage，toyourGran，dear？’
Thechildpeepedupagain。`Yes!’shesimpered。
Conniedislikedher；thespoilt，falselittlefemale。Neverthelessshewipedherfaceandtookherhand。Thekeepersalutedinsilence。
`Goodmorning!’saidConnie。
Itwasnearlyamiletothecottage，andConnieseniorwaswellredbyConniejuniorbythetimethegame-keeper’spicturesquelittlehomewasinsight。Thechildwasalreadyasfulltothebrimwithtricksasalittlemonkey，andsoself-assured。
Atthecottagethedoorstoodopen，andtherewasarattlingheardinside。
Connielingered，thechildslippedherhand，andranindoors。
`Gran!Gran!’
`Why，areyerbacka’ready!’
Thegrandmotherhadbeenblackleadingthestove，itwasSaturdaymorning。
Shecametothedoorinhersackingapron，ablacklead-brushinherhand，andablacksmudgeonhernose。Shewasalittle，ratherdrywoman。
`Why，whatever？’shesaid，hastilywipingherarmacrossherfaceasshesawConniestandingoutside。
`Goodmorning!’saidConnie。`Shewascrying，soIjustbroughtherhome。’
Thegrandmotherlookedaroundswiftlyatthechild：
`Why，wheerwasyerDad？’
Thelittlegirlclungtohergrandmother’sskirtsandsimpered。
`Hewasthere，’saidConnie，`buthe’dshotapoachingcat，andthechildwasupset。’
`Oh，you’dnorightt’avebothered，LadyChatterley，I’msure!I’msureitwasverygoodofyou，butyoushouldn’t’avebothered。Why，dideveryousee!’——andtheoldwomanturnedtothechild：`FancyLadyChatterleytakin’allthattroubleoveryer!Why，sheshouldn’t’avebothered!’
`Itwasnobother，justawalk，’saidConniesmiling。
`Why，I’msure’twasverykindofyou，Imustsay!Soshewascrying!
Iknewthere’dbesomethingaforetheygotfar。She’sfrightenedof’im，that’swheeritis。Seems’e’salmostastrangerto’er，fairastranger，andIdon’tthinkthey’retwoas’dhititoffveryeasy。He’sgotfunnyways。’
Conniedidn’tknowwhattosay。
`Look，Gran!’simperedthechild。
Theoldwomanlookeddownatthesixpenceinthelittlegirl’shand。
`An’sixpencean’all!Oh，yourLadyship，youshouldn’t，youshouldn’t。
Why，isn’tLadyChatterleygoodtoyer!Myword，you’realuckygirlthismorning!’
Shepronouncedthename，asallthepeopledid：Chat’ley——Isn’tLadyChat’leygoodtoyou!’——Conniecouldn’thelplookingattheoldwoman’snose，andthelatteragainvaguelywipedherfacewiththebackofherwrist，butmissedthesmudge。
Conniewasmovingaway`Well，thankyoueversomuch，LadyChat’ley，I’msure。SaythankyoutoLadyChat’ley!’——thislasttothechild。
`Thankyou，’pipedthechild。
`There’sadear!’laughedConnie，andshemovedaway，saying`Goodmorning’，heartilyrelievedtogetawayfromthecontact。
Curious，shethought，thatthatthin，proudmanshouldhavethatlittle，sharpwomanforamother!
Andtheoldwoman，assoonasConniehadgone，rushedtothebitofmirrorinthescullery，andlookedatherface。Seeingit，shestampedherfootwithimpatience。`Ofcourseshehadtocatchmeinmycoarseapron，andadirtyface!Niceideashe’dgetofme!’
ConniewentslowlyhometoWragby。`Home!’……itwasawarmwordtouseforthatgreat，wearywarren。Butthenitwasawordthathadhaditsday。
Itwassomehowcancelled。Allthegreatwords，itseemedtoConnie，werecancelledforhergeneration：love，joy，happiness，home，mother，father，husband，allthesegreat，dynamicwordswerehalfdeadnow，anddyingfromdaytoday。Homewasaplaceyoulivedin，lovewasathingyoudidn’tfoolyourselfabout，joywasawordyouappliedtoagoodCharleston，happinesswasatermofhypocrisyusedtobluffotherpeople，afatherwasanindividualwhoenjoyedhisownexistence，ahusbandwasamanyoulivedwithandkeptgoinginspirits。Asforsex，thelastofthegreatwords，itwasjustacocktailtermforanexcitementthatbuckedyouupforawhile，thenleftyoumoreraggythanever。Frayed!Itwasasiftheverymaterialyouweremadeofwascheapstuff，andwasfrayingouttonothing。
Allthatreallyremainedwasastubbornstoicism：andinthattherewasacertainpleasure。Intheveryexperienceofthenothingnessoflife，phaseafterphase，é；tapeafteré；tape，therewasacertaingrislysatisfaction。Sothat’sthat!Alwaysthiswasthelastutterance：home，love，marriage，Michaelis：Sothat’sthat!
Andwhenonedied，thelastwordstolifewouldbe：Sothat’sthat!
Money？Perhapsonecouldn’tsaythesamethere。Moneyonealwayswanted。
Money，Success，thebitch-goddess，asTommyDukespersistedincallingit，afterHenryJames，thatwasapermanentnecessity。Youcouldn’tspendyourlastsou，andsayfinally：Sothat’sthat!No，ifyoulivedevenanothertenminutes，youwantedafewmoresousforsomethingorother。
Justtokeepthebusinessmechanicallygoing，youneededmoney。Youhadtohaveit。Moneyyouhavetohave。Youneedn’treallyhaveanythingelse。Sothat’sthat!
Since，ofcourse，it’snotyourownfaultyouarealive。Onceyouarealive，moneyisanecessity，andtheonlyabsolutenecessity。Alltherestyoucangetalongwithout，atapinch。Butnotmoney。Emphatically，that’sthat!
ShethoughtofMichaelis，andthemoneyshemighthavehadwithhim；
andeventhatshedidn’twant。ShepreferredthelesseramountwhichshehelpedCliffordtomakebyhiswriting。Thatsheactuallyhelpedtomake——`CliffordandItogether，wemaketwelvehundredayearoutofwriting’；sosheputittoherself。Makemoney!Makeit!Outofnowhere。Wringitoutofthethinair!Thelastfeattobehumanlyproudof!Therestall-my-eye-Betty-Martin。
SosheploddedhometoClifford，tojoinforceswithhimagain，tomakeanotherstoryoutofnothingness：andastorymeantmoney。Cliffordseemedtocareverymuchwhetherhisstorieswereconsideredfirst-classliteratureornot。Strictly，shedidn’tcare。Nothinginit!saidherfather。Twelvehundredpoundslastyear!wastheretortsimpleandfinal。
Ifyouwereyoung，youjustsetyourteeth，andbitonandheldon，tillthemoneybegantoflowfromtheinvisible；itwasaquestionofpower。
Itwasaquestionofwill；asubtle，subtle，powerfulemanationofwilloutofyourselfbroughtbacktoyouthemysteriousnothingnessofmoneyawordonabitofpaper。Itwasasortofmagic，certainlyitwastriumph。
Thebitch-goddess!Well，ifonehadtoprostituteoneself，letitbetoabitch-goddess!Onecouldalwaysdespiseherevenwhileoneprostitutedoneselftoher，whichwasgood。
Clifford，ofcourse，hadstillmanychildishtaboosandfetishes。Hewantedtobethought`reallygood’，whichwasallcock-a-hoopynonsense。
Whatwasreallygoodwaswhatactuallycaughton。Itwasnogoodbeingreallygoodandgettingleftwithit。Itseemedasifmostofthe`reallygood’menjustmissedthebus。Afterallyouonlylivedonelife，andifyoumissedthebus，youwerejustleftonthepavement，alongwiththerestofthefailures。
ConniewascontemplatingawinterinLondonwithClifford，nextwinter。
Heandshehadcaughtthebusallright，sotheymightaswellrideontopforabit，andshowit。
Theworstofitwas，Cliffordtendedtobecomevague，absent，andtofallintofitsofvacantdepression。Itwasthewoundtohispsychecomingout。ButitmadeConniewanttoscream。OhGod，ifthemechanismoftheconsciousnessitselfwasgoingtogowrong，thenwhatwasonetodo？Hangitall，onedidone’sbit!Wasonetobeletdownabsolutely？
Sometimessheweptbitterly，butevenassheweptshewassayingtoherself：Sillyfool，wettinghankies!Asifthatwouldgetyouanywhere!
SinceMichaelis，shehadmadeuphermindshewantednothing。Thatseemedthesimplestsolutionoftheotherwiseinsoluble。Shewantednothingmorethanwhatshe’dgot；onlyshewantedtogetaheadwithwhatshe’dgot：
Clifford，thestories，Wragby，theLady-Chatterleybusiness，moneyandfame，suchasitwas……shewantedtogoaheadwithitall。Love，sex，allthatsortofstuff，justwater-ices!Lickitupandforgetit。Ifyoudon’thangontoitinyourmind，it’snothing。Sexespecially……nothing!Makeupyourmindtoit，andyou’vesolvedtheproblem。Sexandacocktail：
theybothlastedaboutaslong，hadthesameeffect，andamountedtoaboutthesamething。
Butachild，ababy!Thatwasstilloneofthesensations。Shewouldventureverygingerlyonthatexperiment。Therewasthemantoconsider，anditwascurious，therewasn’tamanintheworldwhosechildrenyouwanted。Mick’schildren!Repulsivethought!Asliefhaveachildtoarabbit!
TommyDukes？hewasverynice，butsomehowyoucouldn’tassociatehimwithababy，anothergeneration。Heendedinhimself。AndoutofalltherestofClifford’sprettywideacquaintance，therewasnotamanwhodidnotrousehercontempt，whenshethoughtofhavingachildbyhim。Therewereseveralwhowouldhavebeenquitepossibleaslover，evenMick。Buttoletthembreedachildonyou!Ugh!Humiliationandabomination。
Sothatwasthat!
Nevertheless，Conniehadthechildatthebackofhermind。Wait!wait!
Shewouldsiftthegenerationsofmenthroughhersieve，andseeifshecouldn’tfindonewhowoulddo——`GoyeintothestreetsandbywaysofJerusalem，andseeifyoucanfindaman。’IthadbeenimpossibletofindamanintheJerusalemoftheprophet，thoughtherewerethousandsofmalehumans。Butaman!C’estuneautrechose!
Shehadanideathathewouldhavetobeaforeigner：notanEnglishman，stilllessanIrishman。Arealforeigner。
Butwait!wait!NextwintershewouldgetCliffordtoLondon；thefollowingwintershewouldgethimabroadtotheSouthofFrance，Italy。Wait!Shewasinnohurryaboutthechild。Thatwasherownprivateaffair，andtheonepointonwhich，inherownqueer，femaleway，shewasserioustothebottomofhersoul。Shewasnotgoingtoriskanychancecomer，notshe!
Onemighttakealoveralmostatanymoment，butamanwhoshouldbegetachildonone……wait!wait!it’saverydifferentmatter——`GoyeintothestreetsandbywaysofJerusalem……’Itwasnotaquestionoflove；
itwasaquestionofaman。Why，onemightevenratherhatehim，personally。Yetifhewastheman，whatwouldone’spersonalhatematter？
Thisbusinessconcernedanotherpartofoneself。
Ithadrainedasusual，andthepathsweretoosoddenforClifford’schair，butConniewouldgoout。Shewentoutaloneeverydaynow，mostlyinthewood，whereshewasreallyalone。Shesawnobodythere。
Thisday，however，Cliffordwantedtosendamessagetothekeeper，andastheboywaslaidupwithinfluenza，somebodyalwaysseemedtohaveinfluenzaatWragby，Conniesaidshewouldcallatthecottage。
Theairwassoftanddead，asifalltheworldwereslowlydying。Greyandclammyandsilent，evenfromtheshufflingofthecollieries，forthepitswereworkingshorttime，andtodaytheywerestoppedaltogether。Theendofallthings!
Inthewoodallwasutterlyinertandmotionless，onlygreatdropsfellfromthebareboughs，withahollowlittlecrash。Fortherest，amongtheoldtreeswasdepthwithindepthofgrey，hopelessinertia，silence，nothingness。
Conniewalkeddimlyon。Fromtheoldwoodcameanancientmelancholy，somehowsoothingtoher，betterthantheharshinsentienceoftheouterworld。Shelikedtheinwardnessoftheremnantofforest，theunspeakingreticenceoftheoldtrees。Theyseemedaverypowerofsilence，andyetavitalpresence。They，too，werewaiting：obstinately，stoicallywaiting，andgivingoffapotencyofsilence。Perhapstheywereonlywaitingfortheend；tobecutdown，clearedaway，theendoftheforest，forthemtheendofallthings。Butperhapstheirstrongandaristocraticsilence，thesilenceofstrongtrees，meantsomethingelse。
Asshecameoutofthewoodonthenorthside，thekeeper’scottage，aratherdark，brownstonecottage，withgablesandahandsomechimney，lookeduninhabited，itwassosilentandalone。Butathreadofsmokerosefromthechimney，andthelittlerailed-ingardeninthefrontofthehousewasdugandkeptverytidy。Thedoorwasshut。
Nowshewashereshefeltalittleshyoftheman，withhiscuriousfar-seeingeyes。Shedidnotlikebringinghimorders，andfeltlikegoingawayagain。Sheknockedsoftly，noonecame。Sheknockedagain，butstillnotloudly。Therewasnoanswer。Shepeepedthroughthewindow，andsawthedarklittleroom，withitsalmostsinisterprivacy，notwantingtobeinvaded。
Shestoodandlistened，anditseemedtohersheheardsoundsfromthebackofthecottage。Havingfailedtomakeherselfheard，hermettlewasroused，shewouldnotbedefeated。
Soshewentroundthesideofthehouse。Atthebackofthecottagethelandrosesteeply，sothebackyardwassunken，andenclosedbyalowstonewall。Sheturnedthecornerofthehouseandstopped。Inthelittleyardtwopacesbeyondher，themanwaswashinghimself，utterlyunaware。