Women in Love - Page 358/392

'I don't know why you don't--I've been good to you. You were in a

FEARFUL state when you came to me.' Her heart was beating to suffocate her, yet she was strong and

unrelenting.

'When was I in a fearful state?' he asked.

'When you first came to me. I HAD to take pity on you. But it was never

love.' It was that statement 'It was never love,' which sounded in his ears

with madness.

'Why must you repeat it so often, that there is no love?' he said in a

voice strangled with rage.

'Well you don't THINK you love, do you?' she asked.

He was silent with cold passion of anger.

'You don't think you CAN love me, do you?' she repeated almost with a

sneer.

'No,' he said.

'You know you never HAVE loved me, don't you?' 'I don't know what you mean by the word 'love,' he replied.

'Yes, you do. You know all right that you have never loved me. Have

you, do you think?' 'No,' he said, prompted by some barren spirit of truthfulness and

obstinacy.

'And you never WILL love me,' she said finally, 'will you?' There was a diabolic coldness in her, too much to bear.

'No,' he said.

'Then,' she replied, 'what have you against me!' He was silent in cold, frightened rage and despair. 'If only I could

kill her,' his heart was whispering repeatedly. 'If only I could kill

her--I should be free.' It seemed to him that death was the only severing of this Gordian knot.

'Why do you torture me?' he said.

She flung her arms round his neck.

'Ah, I don't want to torture you,' she said pityingly, as if she were

comforting a child. The impertinence made his veins go cold, he was

insensible. She held her arms round his neck, in a triumph of pity. And

her pity for him was as cold as stone, its deepest motive was hate of

him, and fear of his power over her, which she must always counterfoil.

'Say you love me,' she pleaded. 'Say you will love me for ever--won't

you--won't you?' But it was her voice only that coaxed him. Her senses were entirely

apart from him, cold and destructive of him. It was her overbearing

WILL that insisted.

'Won't you say you'll love me always?' she coaxed. 'Say it, even if it

isn't true--say it Gerald, do.' 'I will love you always,' he repeated, in real agony, forcing the words

out.