be bullied by his pretending it’s love — when it ISN’T — he doesn’t care, how can he — no, he can’t-’

He sat in silence. She moved him beyond himself.

‘Then you shouldn’t rouse him, if he can’t,’ replied Birkin quietly.

‘And I HAVE loved him, I have,’ she wept. ‘I’ve loved him always, and he’s always done this to me, he has — ’

‘It’s been a love of opposition, then,’ he said. ‘Never mind — it will be all right. It’s nothing desperate.’

‘Yes,’ she wept, ‘it is, it is.’

‘Why?’