the morning
it was not the same. They had KNOWN, but she could not keep the moment.
She wanted it again; she wanted something permanent. She had not
realised fully. She thought it was he whom she wanted. He was not safe
to her. This that had been between them might never be again; he might
leave her. She had not got him; she was not satisfied. She had been
there, but she had not gripped the--the something--she knew not
what--which she was mad to have.

In the morning he had considerable peace, and was happy in himself. It
seemed almost as if he had known the baptism of fire in passion, and it
left him at rest. But it was not Clara. It was something that happened
because of her, but it was not her. They were scarcely any nearer each
other. It was as if they had been blind agents of a great force.

When she saw him that day at the factory her heart melted like a drop of
fire. It was his body, his brows. The drop of fire grew more intense
in her breast; she must hold him. But he, very quiet, very subdued this
morning, went on giving his instruction. She followed him into the
dark, ugly basement, and lifted her arms to him. He kissed her, and the
intensity of passion began to burn him again. Somebody was at the door.
He ran upstairs; she returned to her room, moving as if in a trance.

After that the fire slowly went down. He felt more and more that his
experience had been impersonal, and not Clara. He loved her. There was
a big tenderness, as after a strong emotion they had known together; but
it was not she who could keep his soul steady. He had wanted her to be
something she could not be.

And she was mad with desire of him. She could not see him without
touching him. In the factory, as he talked to her about Spiral hose,
she ran her hand secretly along his side. She followed him out into the
basement for a quick kiss; her eyes, always mute and yearning, full of
unrestrained passion, she kept fixed on his. He was afraid of her, lest
she should too flagrantly give herself away before the other girls. She
invariably waited for him at dinnertime for him to embrace her before
she went. He felt as if she were helpless, almost a burden to him, and
it irritated him.

"But what do you always want to be kissing and embracing for?" he said.
"Surely there's a time for everything."

She looked up at him, and the hate came into her eyes.

"DO I always want to be kissing you?" she said.

"Always, even if I come to ask you ab