"Shall we go, then?" he said.
She rose in silence, as if acting without a mind, merely
physically. He seemed to hold her in his will. Outside it was
still raining.
"Let's have a walk," he said. "I don't mind the rain, do
you?"
"No, I don't mind it," she said.
He was alert in every sense and fibre, and yet quite sure and
steady, and lit up, as if transfused. He had a free sensation of
walking in his own darkness, not in anybody else's world at all.
He was purely a world to himself, he had nothing to do with any
general consciousness. Just his own senses were supreme. All the
rest was external, insignificant, leaving him alone with this
girl whom he wanted to absorb, whose properties he wanted to
absorb into his own senses. He did not care about her, except
that he wanted to overcome her resistance, to have her in his
power, fully and exhaustively to enjoy her.
They turned into the dark streets. He held her umbrella over
her, and put his arm round her. She walked as if she were
unaware. But gradually, as he walked, he drew her a little
closer, into the movement of his side and hip. She fitted in
there very well. It was a real good fit, to walk with her like
this. It made him exquisitely aware of his own muscular self.
And his hand that grasped her side felt one curve of her, and it
seemed like a new creation to him, a reality, an absolute, an
existing tangible beauty of the absolute. It was like a star.
Everything in him was absorbed in the sensual delight of this
one small, firm curve in her body, that his hand, and his whole
being, had lighted upon.
He led her into the Park, where it was almost dark. He
noticed a corner between two walls, under a great overhanging
bush of ivy.
"Let us stand here a minute," he said.
He put down the umbrella, and followed her into the corner,
retreating out of the rain. He needed no eyes to see. All he
wanted was to know through touch. She was like a piece of
palpable darkness. He found her in the darkness, put his arms
round her and his hands upon her. She was silent and
inscrutable. But he did not want to know anything about her, he
only wanted to discover her. And through her clothing, what
absolute beauty he touched.
"Take your hat off," he said.
Silently, obediently, she shook off her hat and gave herself
to his arms again. He liked her--he liked the feel of
her--he wanted to know her more closely. He let his fingers
subtly seek out her cheek and neck. What amazing beauty and
pleasure, in the dark! His fingers had often touched Anna on the
face and neck like that. What matter! It was one man who touched
Anna, another who now touched this girl. He liked best his new
self. He was given over altogether to the sensuous knowledge of
this woman, and every moment he seemed to be touching absolute
beauty, something beyond knowledge.