Women in Love

lonely mile of drive, and she wanted this.

“You might just as well drive,” he said.

“I’d much rather walk,” she asserted, with emphasis.

“You would! Then I will come along with you. You know where your things are? I’ll put boots on.”

He put on a cap, and an overcoat over his evening dress. They went out into the night.

“Let us light a cigarette,” he said, stopping in a sheltered angle of the porch. “You have one too.”

So, with the scent of tobacco on the night air, they set off down the dark drive that ran between close-cut hedges through sloping meadows.

He wanted to put his arm round her. If he could put his arm round her, and draw her against him as they walked, he would equilibriate himself. For now he felt like a pair of scales, the half of which tips down and down into an indefinite void. He must recover some sort of balance. And here was the hope and the perfect

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