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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"Sons and Lovers"


She looked at him heavily as she put back her hair. Suddenly he put his
finger-tips on her cheek.
"Why dost look so heavy?" he reproached her.
She smiled sadly, as if she felt alone in herself. He caressed her cheek
with his fingers, and kissed her.
"Nay!" he said. "Never thee bother!"
She gripped his fingers tight, and laughed shakily. Then she dropped her
hand. He put the hair back from her brows, stroking her temples, kissing
them lightly.
"But tha shouldna worrit!" he said softly, pleading.
"No, I don't worry!" she laughed tenderly and resigned.
"Yea, tha does! Dunna thee worrit," he implored, caressing.
"No!" she consoled him, kissing him.
They had a stiff climb to get to the top again. It took them a quarter
of an hour. When he got on to the level grass, he threw off his cap,
wiped the sweat from his forehead, and sighed.
"Now we're back at the ordinary level," he said.
She sat down, panting, on the tussocky grass. Her cheeks were flushed
pink. He kissed her, and she gave way to joy.


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