When she opened and turned to him, then all that had been and
all that was, was gone from her, she was as new as a flower that
unsheathes itself and stands always ready, waiting, receptive.
He could not understand this. He forced himself, through lack of
understanding, to the adherence to the line of honourable
courtship and sanctioned, licensed marriage. Therefore, after he
had gone to the vicarage and asked for her, she remained for
some days held in this one spell, open, receptive to him, before
him. He was roused to chaos. He spoke to the vicar and gave in
the banns. Then he stood to wait.
She remained attentive and instinctively expectant before
him, unfolded, ready to receive him. He could not act, because
of self-fear and because of his conception of honour towards
her. So he remained in a state of chaos.
And after a few days, gradually she closed again, away from
him, was sheathed over, impervious to him, oblivious. Then a
black, bottomless despair became real to him, he knew what he
had lost. He felt he had lost it for good, he knew what it was
to have been in communication with her, and to be cast off
again. In misery, his heart like a heavy stone, he went about
unliving.
Till gradually he became desperate, lost his understanding,
was plunged in a revolt that knew no bounds. Inarticulate, he
moved with her at the Marsh in violent, gloomy, wordless
passion, almost in hatred of her. Till gradually she became
aware of him, aware of herself with regard to him, her blood
stirred to life, she began to open towards him, to flow towards
him again. He waited till the spell was between them again, till
they were together within one rushing, hastening flame. And then
again he was bewildered, he was tied up as with cords, and could
not move to her. So she came to him, and unfastened the breast
of his waistcoat and his shirt, and put her hand on him, needing
to know him. For it was cruel to her, to be opened and offered
to him, yet not to know what he was, not even that he was there.
She gave herself to the hour, but he could not, and he bungled
in taking her.
So that he lived in suspense, as if only half his faculties
worked, until the wedding. She did not understand. But the
vagueness came over her again, and the days lapsed by. He could
not get definitely into touch with her. For the time being, she
let him go again.
He suffered very much from the thought of actual marriage,
the intimacy and nakedness of marriage. He knew her so little.
They were so foreign to each other, they were such strangers.
And they could not talk to each other. When she talked, of
Poland or of what had been, it was all so foreign, she scarcely
communicated anything to him. And when he looked at her, an
over-much reverence and fear of the unknown changed the nature
of his desire into a sort of worship, holding her aloof from his
physical desire, self-thwarting.