Page:Sons and Lovers, 1913, Lawrence.djvu/378

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SONS AND LOVERS

of the town, and they heard footsteps coming, almost felt the vibration of the tread, and they heard what the passers-by said—strange little things that were never intended to be heard. And afterwards each of them was rather ashamed, and these things caused a distance between the two of them. He began to despise her a little, as if she had merited it!

One night he left her to go to Daybrook Station over the fields. It was very dark, with an attempt at snow, although the spring was so far advanced. Morel had not much time; he plunged forward. The town ceases almost abruptly on the edge of a steep hollow; there the houses with their yellow lights stand up against the darkness. He went over the stile, and dropped quickly into the hollow of the fields. Under the orchard one warm window shone in Swineshead Farm. Paul glanced round. Behind, the houses stood on the brim of the dip, black against the sky, like wild beasts glaring curiously with yellow eyes down into the darkness. It was the town that seemed savage and uncouth, glaring on the clouds at the back of him. Some creature stirred under the willows of the farm pond. It was too dark to distinguish anything.

He was close up to the next stile before he saw a dark shape leaning against it. The man moved aside.

“Good-evening!” he said.

“Good-evening!” Morel answered, not noticing.

“Paul Morel?” said the man.

Then he knew it was Dawes. The man stopped his way.

“I’ve got yer, have I?” he said awkwardly.

“I shall miss my train,” said Paul.

He could see nothing of Dawes’ face. The man’s teeth seemed to chatter as he talked.

“You’re going to get it from me now,” said Dawes.

Morel attempted to move forward; the other man stepped in front of him.

“Are yer goin’ to take that top-coat off,” he said, “or are you goin’ to lie down to it?”

Paul was afraid the man was mad.

“But,” he said, “I don’t know how to fight.”

“All right, then,” answered Dawes, and before the younger man knew where he was he was staggering backwards from a blow across the face.

The whole night went black. He tore off his overcoat and coat, dodging a blow, and flung the garments over Dawes.