Shewaswatchingabrownspanielthathadrunoutofaside-path，andwaslookingtowardsthemwithliftednose，makingasoft，fluffybark。
　　Amanwithagunstrodeswiftly，softlyoutafterthedog，facingtheirwayasifabouttoattackthem；thenstoppedinstead，saluted，andwasturningdownhill。Itwasonlythenewgame-keeper，buthehadfrightenedConnie，heseemedtoemergewithsuchaswiftmenace。Thatwashowshehadseenhim，likethesuddenrushofathreatoutofnowhere。
　　Hewasamanindarkgreenvelveteensandgaiters……theoldstyle，witharedfaceandredmoustacheanddistanteyes。Hewasgoingquicklydownhill。
　　`Mellors!’calledClifford。
　　Themanfacedlightlyround，andsalutedwithaquicklittlegesture，asoldier!
　　`Willyouturnthechairroundandgetitstarted？Thatmakesiteasier，’
　　saidClifford。
　　Themanatonceslunghisgunoverhisshoulder，andcameforwardwiththesamecuriousswift，yetsoftmovements，asifkeepinginvisible。Hewasmoderatelytallandlean，andwassilent。HedidnotlookatConnieatall，onlyatthechair。
　　`Connie，thisisthenewgame-keeper，Mellors。Youhaven’tspokentoherladyshipyet，Mellors？’
　　`No，Sir!’cametheready，neutralwords。
　　Themanliftedhishatashestood，showinghisthick，almostfairhair。
　　HestaredstraightintoConnie’seyes，withaperfect，fearless，impersonallook，asifhewantedtoseewhatshewaslike。Hemadeherfeelshy。Shebentherheadtohimshyly，andhechangedhishattohislefthandandmadeheraslightbow，likeagentleman；buthesaidnothingatall。Heremainedforamomentstill，withhishatinhishand。
　　`Butyou’vebeenheresometime，haven’tyou？’Conniesaidtohim。
　　`Eightmonths，Madam……yourLadyship!’hecorrectedhimselfcalmly。
　　`Anddoyoulikeit？’
　　Shelookedhimintheeyes。Hiseyesnarrowedalittle，withirony，perhapswithimpudence。
　　`Why，yes，thankyou，yourLadyship!Iwasrearedhere……’
　　Hegaveanotherslightbow，turned，puthishaton，andstrodetotakeholdofthechair。Hisvoiceonthelastwordshadfallenintotheheavybroaddragofthedialect……perhapsalsoinmockery，becausetherehadbeennotraceofdialectbefore。Hemightalmostbeagentleman。Anyhow，hewasacurious，quick，separatefellow，alone，butsureofhimself。
　　Cliffordstartedthelittleengine，themancarefullyturnedthechair，andsetitnose-forwardstotheinclinethatcurvedgentlytothedarkhazelthicket。
　　`Isthatallthen，SirClifford？’askedtheman。
　　`No，you’dbettercomealongincaseshesticks。Theengineisn’treallystrongenoughfortheuphillwork。’Themanglancedroundforhisdog……athoughtfulglance。Thespaniellookedathimandfaintlymoveditstail。
　　Alittlesmile，mockingorteasingher，yetgentle，cameintohiseyesforamoment，thenfadedaway，andhisfacewasexpressionless。Theywentfairlyquicklydowntheslope，themanwithhishandontherailofthechair，steadyingit。Helookedlikeafreesoldierratherthanaservant。
　　AndsomethingabouthimremindedConnieofTommyDukes。
　　Whentheycametothehazelgrove，Conniesuddenlyranforward，andopenedthegateintothepark。Asshestoodholdingit，thetwomenlookedatherinpassing，Cliffordcritically，theothermanwithacurious，coolwonder；impersonallywantingtoseewhatshelookedlike。Andshesawinhisblue，impersonaleyesalookofsufferinganddetachment，yetacertainwarmth。Butwhywashesoaloof，apart？
　　Cliffordstoppedthechair，oncethroughthegate，andthemancamequickly，courteously，tocloseit。
　　`Whydidyouruntoopen？’askedCliffordinhisquiet，calmvoice，thatshowedhewasdispleased。`Mellorswouldhavedoneit。’
　　`Ithoughtyouwouldgostraightahead，’saidConnie。`Andleaveyoutorunafterus？’saidClifford。
　　`Oh，well，Iliketorunsometimes!’
　　Mellorstookthechairagain，lookingperfectlyunheeding，yetConniefelthenotedeverything。Ashepushedthechairupthesteepishriseoftheknollinthepark，hebreathedratherquickly，throughpartedlips。
　　Hewasratherfrailreally。Curiouslyfullofvitality，butalittlefrailandquenched。Herwoman’sinstinctsensedit。
　　Conniefellback，letthechairgoon。Thedayhadgreyedover；thesmallblueskythathadpoisedlowonitscircularrimsofhazewasclosedinagain，thelidwasdown，therewasarawcoldness。Itwasgoingtosnow。
　　Allgrey，allgrey!theworldlookedwornout。
　　Thechairwaitedatthetopofthepinkpath。CliffordlookedroundforConnie。
　　`Nottired，areyou？’hesaid。
　　`Oh，no!’shesaid。
　　Butshewas。Astrange，wearyyearning，adissatisfactionhadstartedinher。Clifforddidnotnotice：thosewerenotthingshewasawareof。
　　Butthestrangerknew。ToConnie，everythinginherworldandlifeseemedwornout，andherdissatisfactionwasolderthanthehills。
　　Theycametothehouse，andaroundtotheback，wheretherewerenosteps。Cliffordmanagedtoswinghimselfoverontothelow，wheeledhouse-chair；
　　hewasverystrongandagilewithhisarms。ThenConnieliftedtheburdenofhisdeadlegsafterhim。
　　Thekeeper，waitingatattentiontobedismissed，watchedeverythingnarrowly，missingnothing。Hewentpale，withasortoffear，whenhesawConnieliftingtheinertlegsofthemaninherarms，intotheotherchair，Cliffordpivotingroundasshedidso。Hewasfrightened。
　　`Thanks，then，forthehelp，Mellors，’saidCliffordcasually，ashebegantowheeldownthepassagetotheservants’quarters。
　　`Nothingelse，Sir？’cametheneutralvoice，likeoneinadream。
　　`Nothing，goodmorning!’
　　`Goodmorning，Sir。’
　　`Goodmorning!itwaskindofyoutopushthechairupthathill……I
　　hopeitwasn’theavyforyou，’saidConnie，lookingbackatthekeeperoutsidethedoor。
　　Hiseyescametohersinaninstant，asifwakenedup。Hewasawareofher。
　　`Ohno，notheavy!’hesaidquickly。Thenhisvoicedroppedagainintothebroadsoundofthevernacular：`Goodmornin’toyourLadyship!’
　　`Whoisyourgame-keeper？’Connieaskedatlunch。
　　`Mellors!Yousawhim，’saidClifford。
　　`Yes，butwheredidhecomefrom？’
　　`Nowhere!HewasaTevershallboy……sonofacollier，Ibelieve。’
　　`Andwasheacollierhimself？’
　　`Blacksmithonthepit-bank，Ibelieve：overheadsmith。Buthewaskeeperherefortwoyearsbeforethewar……beforehejoinedup。MyfatheralwayshadagoodOpinionofhim，sowhenhecameback，andwenttothepitforablacksmith’sjob，Ijusttookhimbackhereaskeeper。Iwasreallyverygladtogethim……itsalmostimpossibletofindagoodmanroundhereforagamekeeper……anditneedsamanwhoknowsthepeople。’
　　`Andisn’themarried？’
　　`Hewas。Buthiswifewentoffwith……withvariousmen……butfinallywithacollieratStacksGate，andIbelieveshe’slivingtherestill。’
　　`Sothismanisalone？’
　　`Moreorless!Hehasamotherinthevillage……andachild，Ibelieve。’
　　CliffordlookedatConnie，withhispale，slightlyprominentblueeyes，inwhichacertainvaguenesswascoming。Heseemedalertintheforeground，butthebackgroundwasliketheMidlandsatmosphere，haze，smokymist。
　　Andthehazeseemedtobecreepingforward。SowhenhestaredatConnieinhispeculiarway，givingherhispeculiar，preciseinformation，shefeltallthebackgroundofhismindfillingupwithmist，withnothingness。
　　Anditfrightenedher。Itmadehimseemimpersonal，almosttoidiocy。
　　Anddimlysherealizedoneofthegreatlawsofthehumansoul：thatwhentheemotionalsoulreceivesawoundingshock，whichdoesnotkillthebody，thesoulseemstorecoverasthebodyrecovers。Butthisisonlyappearance。Itisreallyonlythemechanismofthere-assumedhabit。Slowly，slowlythewoundtothesoulbeginstomakeitselffelt，likeabruise，whichOnlyslowlydeepensitsterribleache，tillitfillsallthepsyche。
　　Andwhenwethinkwehaverecoveredandforgotten，itisthenthattheterribleafter-effectshavetobeencounteredattheirworst。
　　SoitwaswithClifford。Oncehewas`well’，oncehewasbackatWragby，andwritinghisstories，andfeelingsureoflife，inspiteofall，heseemedtoforget，andtohaverecoveredallhisequanimity。Butnow，astheyearswentby，slowly，slowly，Conniefeltthebruiseoffearandhorrorcomingup，andspreadinginhim。Foratimeithadbeensodeepastobenumb，asitwerenon-existent。Nowslowlyitbegantoassertitselfinaspreadoffear，almostparalysis。Mentallyhestillwasalert。Buttheparalysis，thebruiseofthetoo-greatshock，wasgraduallyspreadinginhisaffectiveself。
　　Andasitspreadinhim，Conniefeltitspreadinher。Aninwarddread，anemptiness，anindifferencetoeverythinggraduallyspreadinhersoul。
　　WhenCliffordwasroused，hecouldstilltalkbrilliantlyand，asitwere，commandthefuture：aswhen，inthewood，hetalkedaboutherhavingachild，andgivinganheirtoWragby。Butthedayafter，allthebrilliantwordsseemedlikedeadleaves，crumplingupandturningtopowder，meaningreallynothing，blownawayonanygustofwind。Theywerenottheleafywordsofaneffectivelife，youngwithenergyandbelongingtothetree。
　　Theywerethehostsoffallenleavesofalifethatisineffectual。
　　Soitseemedtohereverywhere。ThecolliersatTevershallweretalkingagainofastrike，anditseemedtoConniethereagainitwasnotamanifestationofenergy，itwasthebruiseofthewarthathadbeeninabeyance，slowlyrisingtothesurfaceandcreatingthegreatacheofunrest，andstuporofdiscontent。Thebruisewasdeep，deep，deep……thebruiseofthefalseinhumanwar。Itwouldtakemanyyearsforthelivingbloodofthegenerationstodissolvethevastblackclotofbruisedblood，deepinsidetheirsoulsandbodies。Anditwouldneedanewhope。
　　PoorConnie!AstheyearsdrewonitwasthefearofnothingnessInherlifethataffectedher。Clifford’smentallifeandhersgraduallybegantofeellikenothingness。Theirmarriage，theirintegratedlifebasedonahabitofintimacy，thathetalkedabout：thereweredayswhenitallbecameutterlyblankandnothing。Itwaswords，justsomanywords。Theonlyrealitywasnothingness，andoveritahypocrisyofwords。
　　TherewasClifford’ssuccess：thebitch-goddess!Itwastruehewasalmostfamous，andhisbooksbroughthiminathousandpounds。Hisphotographappearedeverywhere。Therewasabustofhiminoneofthegalleries，andaportraitofhimintwogalleries。Heseemedthemostmodernofmodernvoices。Withhisuncannylameinstinctforpublicity，hehadbecomeinfourorfiveyearsoneofthebestknownoftheyoung`intellectuals’。
　　Wheretheintellectcamein，Conniedidnotquitesee。Cliffordwasreallycleveratthatslightlyhumorousanalysisofpeopleandmotiveswhichleaveseverythinginbitsattheend。Butitwasratherlikepuppiestearingthesofacushionstobits；exceptthatitwasnotyoungandplayful，butcuriouslyold，andratherobstinatelyconceited。Itwasweirdanditwasnothing。
　　Thiswasthefeelingthatechoedandre-echoedatthebottomofConnie’ssoul：itwasallflag，awonderfuldisplayofnothingness；Atthesametimeadisplay。Adisplay!adisplay!adisplay!
　　MichaelishadseizeduponCliffordasthecentralfigureforaplay；
　　alreadyhehadsketchedintheplot，andwrittenthefirstact。ForMichaeliswasevenbetterthanCliffordatmakingadisplayofnothingness。Itwasthelastbitofpassionleftinthesemen：thepassionformakingadisplay。
　　Sexuallytheywerepassionless，evendead。AndnowitwasnotmoneythatMichaeliswasafter。Cliffordhadneverbeenprimarilyoutformoney，thoughhemadeitwherehecould，formoneyisthesealandstampofsuccess。
　　Andsuccesswaswhattheywanted。Theywanted，bothofthem，tomakearealdisplay……aman’sownverydisplayofhimselfthatshouldcaptureforatimethevastpopulace。
　　Itwasstrange……theprostitutiontothebitch-goddess。ToConnie，sinceshewasreallyoutsideofit，andsinceshehadgrownnumbtothethrillofit，itwasagainnothingness。Eventheprostitutiontothebitch-goddesswasnothingness，thoughthemenprostitutedthemselvesinnumerabletimes。
　　Nothingnesseventhat。
　　MichaeliswrotetoCliffordabouttheplay。Ofcoursesheknewaboutitlongago。AndCliffordwasagainthrilled。Hewasgoingtobedisplayedagainthistime，somebodywasgoingtodisplayhim，andtoadvantage。HeinvitedMichaelisdowntoWragbywithActI。
　　Michaeliscame：insummer，inapale-colouredsuitandwhitesuedegloves，withmauveorchidsforConnie，verylovely，andActIwasagreatsuccess。
　　EvenConniewasthrilled……thrilledtowhatbitofmarrowshehadleft。
　　AndMichaelis，thrilledbyhispowertothrill，wasreallywonderful……andquitebeautiful，inConnie’seyes。Shesawinhimthatancientmotionlessnessofaracethatcan’tbedisillusionedanymore，anextreme，perhaps，ofimpuritythatispure。Onthefarsideofhissupremeprostitutiontothebitch-goddessheseemedpure，pureasanAfricanivorymaskthatdreamsimpurityintopurity，initsivorycurvesandplanes。
　　HismomentofsheerthrillwiththetwoChatterleys，whenhesimplycarriedConnieandCliffordaway，wasoneofthesuprememomentsofMichaelis’
　　life。Hehadsucceeded：hehadcarriedthemaway。EvenCliffordwastemporarilyinlovewithhim……ifthatisthewayonecanputit。
　　SonextmorningMickwasmoreuneasythanever；restless，devoured，withhishandsrestlessinhistrouserspockets。Conniehadnotvisitedhiminthenight……andhehadnotknownwheretofindher。Coquetry!……athismomentoftriumph。
　　Hewentuptohersitting-roominthemorning。Sheknewhewouldcome。
　　Andhisrestlessnesswasevident。Heaskedherabouthisplay……didshethinkitgood？Hehadtohearitpraised：thataffectedhimwiththelastthinthrillofpassionbeyondanysexualorgasm。Andshepraiseditrapturously。
　　Yetallthewhile，atthebottomofhersoul，sheknewitwasnothing。
　　`Lookhere!’hesaidsuddenlyatlast。`Whydon’tyouandImakeacleanthingofit？Whydon’twemarry？’
　　`ButIammarried，’shesaid，amazed，andyetfeelingnothing。
　　`Ohthat!……he’lldivorceyouallright……Whydon’tyouandImarry？
　　Iwanttomarry。Iknowitwouldbethebestthingforme……marryandleadaregularlife。Ileadthedeuceofalife，simplytearingmyselftopieces。
　　Lookhere，youandI，we’remadeforoneanother……handandglove。Whydon’twemarry？Doyouseeanyreasonwhyweshouldn’t？’
　　Connielookedathimamazed：andyetshefeltnothing。Thesemen，theywereallalike，theylefteverythingout。Theyjustwentofffromthetopoftheirheadsasiftheyweresquibs，andexpectedyoutobecarriedheavenwardsalongwiththeirownthinsticks。