Women in Love

'I don't mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way,' he said.

'I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other.

It's like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about

yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to

insist--be glad and sure and indifferent.' 'Who insists?' she mocked. 'Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn't

ME!' There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for

some time.

'I know,' he said. 'While ever either of us insists to the other, we

are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn't come.' They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The

night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely

conscious.

Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand

tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace.

'Do you really love me?' she said.

He laughed.

'I call that your war-cry,' he replied, amused.

'Why!' she cried, amused and really wondering.

'Your insistence--Your war-cry--"A Brangwen, A Brangwen"--an old

battle-cry. Yours is, "Do you love me? Yield knave, or die."' 'No,' she said, pleading, 'not like that. Not like that. But I must

know that you love me, mustn't I?' 'Well then, know it and have done with it.' 'But do you?' 'Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it's final. It is final, so why say

any more about it.' She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt.

'Are you sure?' she said, nestling happily near to him.

'Quite sure--so now have done--accept it and have done.' She was nestled quite close to him.

'Have done with what?' she murmured, happily.

'With bothering,' he said.

She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly,

gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and

kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any

will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in

a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in

bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be

together in happy stillness.

For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair,

her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm

breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive

fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like

quicksilver.