`Wouldyoupreferself-importantanimalities？’
`Perhaps!Butonemightpossiblygetsomethingthatwasn’tself-important。’
`Well，IlikeProust’ssubtletyandhiswell-bredanarchy。’
`Itmakesyouverydead，really。’
`Therespeaksmyevangelicallittlewife。’
Theywereatitagain，atitagain!Butshecouldn’thelpfightinghim。
Heseemedtosittherelikeaskeleton，sendingoutaskeleton’scoldgrizzlywillagainsther。Almostshecouldfeeltheskeletonclutchingherandpressinghertoitscageofribs。Hetoowasreallyupinarms：andshewasalittleafraidofhim。
Shewentupstairsassoonaspossible，andwenttobedquiteearly。
Butathalfpastnineshegotup，andwentoutsidetolisten。Therewasnosound。Sheslippedonadressing-gownandwentdownstairs。CliffordandMrsBoltonwereplayingcards，gambling。Theywouldprobablygoonuntilmidnight。
Conniereturnedtoherroom，threwherpyjamasonthetossedbed，putonathintennis-dressandoverthatawoollenday-dress，putonrubbertennis-shoes，andthenalightcoat。Andshewasready。Ifshemetanybody，shewasjustgoingoutforafewminutes。Andinthemorning，whenshecameinagain，shewouldjusthavebeenforalittlewalkinthedew，asshefairlyoftendidbeforebreakfast。Fortherest，theonlydangerwasthatsomeoneshouldgointoherroomduringthenight。Butthatwasmostunlikely：notonechanceinahundred。
Bettshadnotlockedup。Hefastenedupthehouseatteno’clock，andunfasteneditagainatseveninthemorning。Sheslippedoutsilentlyandunseen。Therewasahalf-moonshining，enoughtomakealittlelightintheworld，notenoughtoshowherupinherdark-greycoat。Shewalkedquicklyacrossthepark，notreallyinthethrilloftheassignation，butwithacertainangerandrebellionburninginherheart。Itwasnottherightsortofhearttotaketoalove-meeting。Butà；laguerrecommeà；laguerre!
Chapter14
Whenshegotnearthepark-gate，sheheardtheclickofthelatch。
Hewasthere，then，inthedarknessofthewood，andhadseenher!
`Youaregoodandearly，’hesaidoutofthedark。`Waseverythingallright？’
`Perfectlyeasy。’
Heshutthegatequietlyafterher，andmadeaspotoflightonthedarkground，showingthepallidflowersstillstandingthereopeninthenight。Theywentonapart，insilence。
`Areyousureyoudidn’thurtyourselfthismorningwiththatchair？’
sheasked。
`No，no!’
`Whenyouhadthatpneumonia，whatdiditdotoyou？’
`Ohnothing!itleftmyheartnotsostrongandthelungsnotsoelastic。
Butitalwaysdoesthat。’
`Andyououghtnottomakeviolentphysicalefforts？’
`Notoften。’
Sheploddedoninanangrysilence。
`DidyouhateClifford？’shesaidatlast。
`Hatehim，no!I’vemettoomanylikehimtoupsetmyselfhatinghim。
IknowbeforehandIdon’tcareforhissort，andIletitgoatthat。’
`Whatishissort？’
`Nay，youknowbetterthanIdo。Thesortofyoungishgentlemanabitlikealady，andnoballs。’
`Whatballs？’
`Balls!Aman’sballs!’
Sheponderedthis。
`Butisitaquestionofthat？’shesaid，alittleannoyed。
`Yousayaman’sgotnobrain，whenhe’safool：andnoheart，whenhe’smean；andnostomachwhenhe’safunker。Andwhenhe’sgotnoneofthatspunkywildbitofamaninhim，yousayhe’sgotnoballs。Whenhe’sasortoftame。’
Sheponderedthis。
`AndisCliffordtame？’sheasked。
`Tame，andnastywithit：likemostsuchfellows，whenyoucomeupagainst’em。’
`Anddoyouthinkyou’renottame？’
`Maybenotquite!’
Atlengthshesawinthedistanceayellowlight。
Shestoodstill。
`Thereisalight!’shesaid。
`Ialwaysleavealightinthehouse，’hesaid。
Shewentonagainathisside，butnottouchinghim，wonderingwhyshewasgoingwithhimatall。
Heunlocked，andtheywentin，heboltingthedoorbehindthem。Asifitwereaprison，shethought!Thekettlewassingingbytheredfire，therewerecupsonthetable。
Shesatinthewoodenarm-chairbythefire。Itwaswarmafterthechilloutside。
`I’lltakeoffmyshoes，theyarewet，’shesaid。
Shesatwithherstockingedfeetonthebrightsteelfender。Hewenttothepantry，bringingfood：breadandbutterandpressedtongue。Shewaswarm：shetookoffhercoat。Hehungitonthedoor。
`Shallyouhavecocoaorteaorcoffeetodrink？’heasked。
`Idon’tthinkIwantanything，’shesaid，lookingatthetable。`Butyoueat。’
`Nay，Idon’tcareaboutit。I’lljustfeedthedog。’
Hetrampedwithaquietinevitabilityoverthebrickfloor，puttingfoodforthedoginabrownbowl。Thespaniellookedupathimanxiously。
`Ay，thisisthysupper，thanednalookasifthawouldnagetit!’hesaid。
Hesetthebowlonthestairfootmat，andsathimselfonachairbythewall，totakeoffhisleggingsandboots。Thedoginsteadofeating，cametohimagain，andsatlookingupathim，troubled。
Heslowlyunbuckledhisleggings。Thedogedgedalittlenearer。
`What’samisswi’theethen？Artupsetbecausethere’ssomebodyelsehere？Tha’rtafemale，thaart!Goan’eatthysupper。’
Heputhishandonherhead，andthebitchleanedherheadsidewaysagainsthim。Heslowly，softlypulledthelongsilkyear。
`There!’hesaid。`There!Goan’eatthysupper!Go!’
Hetiltedhischairtowardsthepotonthemat，andthedogmeeklywent，andfelltoeating。
`Doyoulikedogs？’Connieaskedhim。
`No，notreally。They’retootameandclinging。’
Hehadtakenoffhisleggingsandwasunlacinghisheavyboots。Conniehadturnedfromthefire。Howbarethelittleroomwas!Yetoverhisheadonthewallhungahideousenlargedphotographofayoungmarriedcouple，apparentlyhimandabold-facedyoungwoman，nodoubthiswife。
`Isthatyou？’Connieaskedhim。
Hetwistedandlookedattheenlargementabovehishead。
`Ay!Takenjustaforewewasmarried，whenIwastwenty-one。’Helookedatitimpassively。
`Doyoulikeit？’Connieaskedhim。
`Likeit？No!Ineverlikedthething。Butshefixeditalluptohaveitdone，like。’
Hereturnedtopullingoffhisboots。
`Ifyoudon’tlikeit，whydoyoukeepithangingthere？Perhapsyourwifewouldliketohaveit，’shesaid。
Helookedupatherwithasuddengrin。
`Shecartedoffiverythingaswasworthtakingfromth’’ouse，’hesaid。
`Butsheleftthat!’
`Thenwhydoyoukeepit？forsentimentalreasons？’
`Nay，Iniverlookatit。Ihardlyknoweditwortheer。It’sbintheersin’wecometothisplace。’
`Whydon’tyouburnit？’shesaid。
Hetwistedroundagainandlookedattheenlargedphotograph。Itwasframedinabrown-and-giltframe，hideous。Itshowedaclean-shaven，alert，veryyoung-lookingmaninaratherhighcollar，andasomewhatplump，boldyoungwomanwithhairfluffedoutandcrimped，andwearingadarksatinblouse。
`Itwouldn’tbeabadidea，wouldit？’hesaid。
Hehadpulledoffhisboots，andputonapairofslippers。Hestooduponthechair，andlifteddownthephotograph。Itleftabigpaleplaceonthegreenishwall-paper。
`Nousedustingitnow，’hesaid，settingthethingagainstthewall。
Hewenttothescullery，andreturnedwithhammerandpincers。Sittingwherehehadsatbefore，hestartedtotearofftheback-paperfromthebigframe，andtopulloutthesprigsthatheldthebackboardinposition，workingwiththeimmediatequietabsorptionthatwascharacteristicofhim。
Hesoonhadthenailsout：thenhepulledoutthebackboards，thentheenlargementitself，initssolidwhitemount。Helookedatthephotographwithamusement。
`ShowsmeforwhatIwas，ayoungcurate，andherforwhatshewas，abully，’hesaid。`Theprigandthebully!’
`Letmelook!’saidConnie。
Hedidlookindeedveryclean-shavenandverycleanaltogether，oneofthecleanyoungmenoftwentyyearsago。Buteveninthephotographhiseyeswerealertanddauntless。Andthewomanwasnotaltogetherabully，thoughherjowlwasheavy。Therewasatouchofappealinher。
`Onenevershouldkeepthesethings，’saidConnie。`Thatoneshouldn’t!
Oneshouldneverhavethemmade!’
Hebrokethecardboardphotographandmountoverhisknee，andwhenitwassmallenough，putitonthefire。
`It’llspoilthefirethough，’hesaid。
Theglassandthebackboardhecarefullytookupstairs。
Theframeheknockedasunderwithafewblowsofthehammer，makingthestuccofly。Thenhetookthepiecesintothescullery。
`We’llburnthattomorrow，’hesaid。`There’stoomuchplaster-mouldingonit。’
Havingclearedaway，hesatdown。
`Didyouloveyourwife？’sheaskedhim。
`Love？’hesaid。`DidyouloveSirClifford？’
Butshewasnotgoingtobeputoff。
`Butyoucaredforher？’sheinsisted。
`Cared？’Hegrinned。
`Perhapsyoucareforhernow，’shesaid。
`Me!’Hiseyeswidened。`Ahno，Ican’tthinkofher，’hesaidquietly。
`Why？’
Butheshookhishead。
`Thenwhydon’tyougetadivorce？She’llcomebacktoyouoneday，’
saidConnie。
Helookedupathersharply。
`Shewouldn’tcomewithinamileofme。ShehatesmealotworsethanIhateher。’
`You’llseeshe’llcomebacktoyou。’
`Thatsheneverwill。That’sdone!Itwouldmakemesicktoseeher。’
`Youwillseeher。Andyou’renotevenlegallyseparated，areyou？’
`No。’
`Ahwell，thenshe’llcomeback，andyou’llhavetotakeherin。’
HegazedatConniefixedly。Thenhegavethequeertossofhishead。
`Youmightberight。Iwasafoolevertocomebackhere。ButIfeltstrandedandhadtogosomewhere。Aman’sapoorbitofawastrelblownabout。Butyou’reright。I’llgetadivorceandgetclear。Ihatethosethingslikedeath，officialsandcourtsandjudges。ButI’vegottogetthroughwithit。I’llgetadivorce。’
Andshesawhisjawset。Inwardlysheexulted。`IthinkIwillhaveacupofteanow，’shesaid。Herosetomakeit。Buthisfacewasset。
Astheysatattablesheaskedhim：
`Whydidyoumarryher？Shewascommonerthanyourself。MrsBoltontoldmeabouther。Shecouldneverunderstandwhyyoumarriedher。’
Helookedatherfixedly。
`I’lltellyou，’hesaid。`ThefirstgirlIhad，IbeganwithwhenI
wassixteen。Shewasaschool-master’sdaughteroveratOllerton，pretty，beautifulreally。IwassupposedtobeacleversortofyoungfellowfromSheffieldGrammarSchool，withabitofFrenchandGerman，verymuchupaloft。Shewastheromanticsortthathatedcommonness。Sheeggedmeontopoetryandreading：inaway，shemadeamanofme。IreadandIthoughtlikeahouseonfire，forher。AndIwasaclerkinButterleyoffices，thin，white-facedfellowfumingwithallthethingsIread。AndabouteverythingItalkedtoher：buteverything。WetalkedourselvesintoPersepolisandTimbuctoo。Wewerethemostliterary-culturedcoupleintencounties。I
heldforthwithrapturetoher，positivelywithrapture。Isimplywentupinsmoke。Andsheadoredme。Theserpentinthegrasswassex。Shesomehowdidn’thaveany；atleast，notwhereit’ssupposedtobe。Igotthinnerandcrazier。ThenIsaidwe’dgottobelovers。Italkedherintoit，asusual。Sosheletme。Iwasexcited，andsheneverwantedit。Shejustdidn’twantit。Sheadoredme，shelovedmetotalktoherandkissher：
inthatwayshehadapassionforme。Buttheother，shejustdidn’twant。
Andtherearelotsofwomenlikeher。AnditwasjusttheotherthatI
didwant。Sotherewesplit。Iwascruel，andlefther。ThenItookonwithanothergirl，ateacher，whohadmadeascandalbycarryingonwithamarriedmananddrivinghimnearlyoutofhismind。Shewasasoft，white-skinned，softsortofawoman，olderthanme，andplayedthefiddle。Andshewasademon。Shelovedeverythingaboutlove，exceptthesex。Clinging，caressing，creepingintoyouineveryway：butifyouforcedhertothesexitself，shejustgroundherteethandsentouthate。Iforcedhertoit，andshecouldsimplynumbmewithhatebecauseofit。SoIwasbalkedagain。I
loathedallthat。Iwantedawomanwhowantedme，andwantedit。
`ThencameBerthaCoutts。They’dlivednextdoortouswhenIwasalittlelad，soIknew’emallright。Andtheywerecommon。Well，BerthawentawaytosomeplaceorotherinBirmingham；shesaid，asalady’scompanion；
everybodyelsesaid，asawaitressorsomethinginahotel。AnyhowjustwhenIwasmorethanfedupwiththatothergirl，whenIwastwenty-one，backcomesBertha，withairsandgracesandsmartclothesandasortofbloomonher：asortofsensualbloomthatyou’dseesometimesonawoman，oronatrolly。Well，Iwasinastateofmurder。IchuckedupmyjobatButterleybecauseIthoughtIwasaweed，clerkingthere：andIgotonasoverheadblacksmithatTevershall：shoeinghorsesmostly。Ithadbeenmydad’sjob，andI’dalwaysbeenwithhim。ItwasajobIliked：handlinghorses：anditcamenaturaltome。SoIstoppedtalking“fine“，astheycallit，talkingproperEnglish，andwentbacktotalkingbroad。Istillreadbooks，athome：butIblacksmithedandhadapony-trapofmyown，andwasMyLordDuckfoot。Mydadleftmethreehundredpoundswhenhedied。