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

"England, My England"


'I'll be good to her, Maud, don't you bother,' he said, beginning to feel
shaky.
He looked again at the picture of the bird. It perched cheerfully under a
blue sky, with robust, jolly ivy leaves near. He was gathering his
courage to depart. He looked down, but struggled hard not to take in the
sight of his wife's face.
'I s'll come again, Maud,' he said. 'I hope you'll go on all right. Is
there anything as you want?'
There was an almost imperceptible shake of the head from the sick woman,
making his heart melt swiftly again. Then, dragging his limbs, he got out
of the room and down the stairs.
The landlord came after him.
'I'll let you know if anything happens,' the publican said, still
laconic, but with his eyes dark and swift.
'Ay, a' right,' said Button blindly. He looked round for his cap, which
he had all the time in his hand. Then he got out of doors.
In a moment the uncle and nephew were in the car jolting on the level
crossing. The elder man seemed as if something tight in his brain made
him open his eyes wide, and stare. He held the steering wheel firmly. He
knew he could steer accurately, to a hair's breadth. Glaring fixedly
ahead, he let the car go, till it bounded over the uneven road. There
were three coal-carts in a string. In an instant the car grazed past
them, almost biting the kerb on the other side. Sutton aimed his car like
a projectile, staring ahead.


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