Women in Love

A great astonishment burst upon him, as if the air had broken. Wide,

wide his soul opened, in wonder, feeling the pain. Then it laughed,

turning, with strong hands outstretched, at last to take the apple of

his desire. At last he could finish his desire.

He took the throat of Gudrun between his hands, that were hard and

indomitably powerful. And her throat was beautifully, so beautifully

soft, save that, within, he could feel the slippery chords of her life.

And this he crushed, this he could crush. What bliss! Oh what bliss, at

last, what satisfaction, at last! The pure zest of satisfaction filled

his soul. He was watching the unconsciousness come unto her swollen

face, watching the eyes roll back. How ugly she was! What a fulfilment,

what a satisfaction! How good this was, oh how good it was, what a

God-given gratification, at last! He was unconscious of her fighting

and struggling. The struggling was her reciprocal lustful passion in

this embrace, the more violent it became, the greater the frenzy of

delight, till the zenith was reached, the crisis, the struggle was

overborne, her movement became softer, appeased.

Loerke roused himself on the snow, too dazed and hurt to get up. Only

his eyes were conscious.

'Monsieur!' he said, in his thin, roused voice: 'Quand vous aurez

fini--' A revulsion of contempt and disgust came over Gerald's soul. The

disgust went to the very bottom of him, a nausea. Ah, what was he

doing, to what depths was he letting himself go! As if he cared about

her enough to kill her, to have her life on his hands!

A weakness ran over his body, a terrible relaxing, a thaw, a decay of

strength. Without knowing, he had let go his grip, and Gudrun had

fallen to her knees. Must he see, must he know?

A fearful weakness possessed him, his joints were turned to water. He

drifted, as on a wind, veered, and went drifting away.

'I didn't want it, really,' was the last confession of disgust in his

soul, as he drifted up the slope, weak, finished, only sheering off

unconsciously from any further contact. 'I've had enough--I want to go

to sleep. I've had enough.' He was sunk under a sense of nausea.

He was weak, but he did not want to rest, he wanted to go on and on, to

the end. Never again to stay, till he came to the end, that was all the

desire that remained to him. So he drifted on and on, unconscious and

weak, not thinking of anything, so long as he could keep in action.