Fiction  |  D.H. Lawrence  |  Sons and Lovers  |  Passion

Sons and Lovers — Passion (Part 23 of 33)

He secretly hoped it was too late to catch the train. She saw the glowing lantern of his hands as he cradled the light; then his face lit up, his eyes fixed on the watch. Instantly all was dark again. All was black before her eyes; only a glowing match was red near her feet. Where was he?

`What is it?' she asked, afraid.

`You can't do it,' his voice answered out of the darkness.

There was a pause. She felt in his power. She had heard the ring in his voice. It frightened her.

`What time is it?' she asked, quiet, definite, hopeless.

`Two minutes to nine,' he replied, telling the truth with a struggle.

`And can I get from here to the station in fourteen minutes?'

`No. At any rate--'

She could distinguish his dark form again a yard or so away. She wanted to escape.

`But can't I do it?' she pleaded.

`If you hurry,' he said brusquely. `But you could easily walk it, Clara; it's only seven miles to the tram. I'll come with you.'

`No; I want to catch the train.'

`But why?'

`I do--I want to catch the train.'

Suddenly his voice altered.

`Very well,' he said, dry and hard. `Come along, then.'

And he plunged ahead into the darkness. She ran after him, wanting to cry. Now he was hard and cruel to her. She ran over the rough, dark fields behind him, out of breath, ready to drop. But the double row of lights at the station drew nearer. Suddenly:

`There she is!' he cried, breaking into a run.

There was a faint rattling noise. Away to the right the train, like a luminous caterpillar, was threading across the night. The rattling ceased.

`She's over the viaduct. You'll just do it.'

Clara ran, quite out of breath, and fell at last into the train. The whistle blew. He was gone. Gone!--and she was in a carriage full of people. She felt the cruelty of it.

He turned round and plunged home. Before he knew where he was he was in the kitchen at home. He was very pale. His eyes were dark and dangerous-looking, as if he were drunk. His mother looked at him.

`Well, I must say your boots are in a nice state!' she said.

He looked at his feet. Then he took off his overcoat. His mother wondered if he were drunk.