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Lawrence, D. H. (David Herbert), 1885-1930

"England, My England"

Secretly he loved the
boy.
'You might ask her,' said Hadrian.
The elder man considered.
'Hadn't you better ask her yourself?' he said.
'She'd take more notice of you,' said Hadrian.
They were both silent. Then Emmie came in.
For two days Mr. Rockley was excited and thoughtful. Hadrian went about
quietly, secretly, unquestioning. At last the father and daughter were
alone together. It was very early morning, the father had been in much
pain. As the pain abated, he lay still, thinking.
'Matilda!' he said suddenly, looking at his daughter.
'Yes, I'm here,' she said.
'Ay! I want you to do something--'
She rose in anticipation.
'Nay, sit still. I want you to marry Hadrian--'
She thought he was raving. She rose, bewildered and frightened.
'Nay, sit you still, sit you still. You hear what I tell you.'
'But you don't know what you're saying, father.'
'Ay, I know well enough. I want you to marry Hadrian, I tell you.'
She was dumbfounded. He was a man of few words.
'You'll do what I tell you,' he said.
She looked at him slowly.
'What put such an idea in your mind?' she said proudly.
'He did.'
Matilda almost looked her father down, her pride was so offended.
'Why, it's disgraceful,' she said.
'Why?'
She watched him slowly.
'What do you ask me for?' she said. 'It's disgusting.'
'The lad's sound enough,' he replied, testily.
'You'd better tell him to clear out,' she said, coldly.


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