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

"England, My England"


This was as much as the nephew knew. He sat beside his uncle, wondering
how things stood at the present. They raced lightly out past the cemetery
and along the boulevard, then turned into the rather grimy country. The
mud flew out on either side, there was a fine mist of rain which blew in
their faces. Berry covered himself up.
In the lanes the high hedges shone black with rain. The silvery grey sky,
faintly dappled, spread wide over the low, green land. The elder man
glanced fiercely up the road, then turned his red face to his nephew.
'And how're you going on, lad?' he said loudly. Berry noticed that his
uncle was slightly uneasy of him. It made him also uncomfortable. The
elder man had evidently something pressing on his soul.
'Who are you living with in town?' asked the nephew. 'Have you gone back
to Aunt Maud?'
'No,' barked the uncle. 'She wouldn't have me. I offered to--I want
to--but she wouldn't.'
'You're alone, then?'
'No, I'm not alone.'
He turned and glared with his fierce blue eyes at his nephew, but said no
more for some time. The car ran on through the mud, under the wet wall of
the park.
'That other devil tried to poison me,' suddenly shouted the elder man.
'The one I went to Australia with.' At which, in spite of himself, the
younger smiled in secret.
'How was that?' he asked.
'Wanted to get rid of me. She got in with another fellow on the
ship.


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