Women in Love by D H Lawrence Chapter 30 Page 67

A little flicker of rage ran through his blood. It was as if she were rousing him, goading him. Why must she do it?

‘Attempt at what?’ he asked.

‘At being lovers, I suppose,’ she said, a little baffled, yet so trivial she made it all seem.

‘Our attempt at being lovers has been a failure?’ he repeated aloud.

To himself he was saying, ‘I ought to kill her here. There is only this left, for me to kill her.’ A heavy, overcharged desire to bring about her death possessed him. She was unaware.

‘Hasn’t it?’ she asked. ‘Do you think it has been a success?’

Again the insult of the