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age between
them。 She might go away。 He did not feel like a master; husband;
father of her children。 She belonged elsewhere。 Any moment; she
might be gone。 And he was ever drawn to her; drawn after her;
with ever…raging; ever…unsatisfied desire。 He must always turn
home; wherever his steps were taking him; always to her; and he
could never quite reach her; he could never quite be satisfied;
never be at peace; because she might go away。
At evening; he was glad。 Then; when he had finished in the
yard; and e in and washed himself; when the child was put to
bed; he could sit on the other side of the fire with his beer on
the hob and his long white pipe in his fingers; conscious of her
there opposite him; as she worked at her embroidery; or as she
talked to him; and he was safe with her now; till morning。 She
was curiously self…sufficient and did not say very much。
Occasionally she lifted her head; her grey eyes shining with a
strange light; that had nothing to do with him or with this
place; and would tell him about herself。 She seemed to be back
again in the past; chiefly in her childhood or her girlhood;
with her father。 She very rarely talked of her first husband。
But sometimes; all shining…eyed; she was back at her own home;
telling him about the riotous times; the trip to Paris with her
father; tales of the mad acts of the peasants when a burst of
religious; self…hurting fervour had passed over the country。
She would lift her head and say:
〃When they brought the railway across the country; they made
afterwards smaller railways; of shorter width; to e down to
our town…a hundred miles。
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