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you imagine？ All the countryside！ And my mother； she did not
like it。 Gisla said to me； 'Madame； she must not know that you
have heard such things。'
〃My mother； she used to cry； and she wished to beat my
father； plainly beat him。 He would say； when she cried because
he sold the forest； the wood； to jingle money in his pocket； and
go to Warsaw or Paris or Kiev； when she said he must take back
his word； he must not sell the forest； he would stand and say；
'I know； I know； I have heard it all； I have heard it all
before。 Tell me some new thing。 I know； I know； I know。' Oh； but
can you understand； I loved him when he stood there under the
door； saying only； 'I know； I know； I know it all already。' She
could not change him； no； not if she killed herself for it。 And
she could change everybody else； but him； she could not change
him〃
Brangwen could not understand。 He had pictures of a
cattle…truck full of naked girls riding from nowhere to nowhere；
of Lydia laughing because her father made great debts and said；
〃I know； I know〃； of Jews running down the street shouting in
Yiddish； 〃Don't do it； don't do it；〃 and being cut down by
demented peasants……she called them 〃cattle〃……whilst
she looked on interested and even amused； of tutors and
governesses and Paris and a convent。 It was too much for him。
And there she sat； telling the tales to the open space； not to
him； arrogating a curious superiority to him； a distance between
them； something strange and foreign and outside his life；
talking； rattling； without rhyme or reason； laughing when he was
shocked or astounded； condemning nothing； confounding his mind
and making the whole world a chaos； without order or stability
of any kind。 Then； when they went to bed； he knew that he had
nothing to do with her。 She was back in her childhood； he was a
peasant； a serf； a servant； a lover； a paramour； a shadow； a
nothing。 He lay still in amazement； staring at the room he knew
so well； and wondering whether it was really there； the window；
the chest of drawers； or whether it was merely a figment in the
atmosphere。 And gradually he grew into a raging fury against
her。 But because he was so much amazed； and there was as yet
such a distance between them； and she was such an amazing thing
to him； with all wonder opening out behind her； he made no
retaliation on her。 Only he lay still and wide…eyed with rage；
inarticulate； not understanding； but solid with hostility。
And he remained wrathful and distinct from her； unchanged
outwardly to her； but underneath a solid power of antagonism to
her。 Of which she became gradually aware。 And it irritated her
to be made aware of him as a separate power。 She lapsed into a
sort of sombre exclusion； a curious munion with mysterious
powers； a sort of mystic； dark state which drove him and the
child nearly mad。 He walked about for days stiffened with
resistance to her； stiff with a will to destroy her as she was。
Then suddenly； out of nowhere； there was connection between them
again。 It came on him as he was working in the fields。 The
tension； the bond； burst； and the passionate flood broke forward
into a tremendous； magnificent rush； so that he felt he could
snap off the trees as he passed； and create the world
afresh。
And when he arrived home； there was no sign between them。 He
waited and waited till she came。 And as he waited； his limbs
seemed strong and splendid to him； his hands seemed like
passionate servants to him； goodly； he felt a stupendous power
in himself； of life； and of urgent； strong blood。
She was sure to e at last； and touch him。 Then he burst
into flame for her； and lost himself。 They looked at each other；
a deep laugh at the bottom of their eyes； and he went to take of
her again； wholesale； mad to revel in the inexhaustible wealth
of her； to bury himself in the depths of her in an inexhaustible
exploration； she all the while revelling in that he revelled in
her； tossed all her secrets aside and plunged to that which was
secret to her as well； whilst she quivered with fear and the
last anguish of delight。
What did it matter who they were； whether they knew each
other or not？
The hour passed away again； there was severance between them；
and rage and misery and bereavement for her； and deposition and
toiling at the mill with slaves for him。 But no matter。 They had
had their hour； and should it chime again； they were ready for
it； ready to renew the game at the point where it was left off；
on the edge of the outer darkness； when the secrets within the
woman are game for the man； hunted doggedly； when the secrets of
the woman are the man's adventure； and they both give themselves
to the adventure。
She was with child； and there was again the silence and
distance between them。 She did not want him nor his secrets nor
his game； he was deposed； he was cast out。 He seethed with fury
at the small； ugly…mouthed woman who had nothing to do with him。
Sometimes his anger broke on her； but she did not cry。 She
turned on him like a tiger； and there was battle。
He had to learn to contain himself again； and he hated it。 He
hated her that she was not there for him。 And he took himself
off； anywhere。
But an instinct of gratitude and a knowledge that she would
receive him back again； that later on she would be there for him
again； prevented his straying very far。 He cautiously did not go
too far。 He knew she might lapse into ignorance of him； lapse
away from him； farther； farther； farther； till she was lost to
him。 He had sense enough； premonition enough in himself； to be
aware of this and to measure himself accordingly。 For he did not
want to lose her： he did not want her to lapse away。
Cold； he called her； selfish； only caring about herself； a
foreigner with a bad nature； caring really about nothing； having
no proper feelings at the bottom of her； and no proper niceness。
He raged； and piled up accusations that had some measure of
truth in them all。 But a certain grace in him forbade him from
going too far。 He knew； and he quivered with rage and hatred；
that she was all these vile things； that she was everything vile
and detestable。 But he had grace at the bottom of him； which
told him that； above all things； he did not want to lose her； he
was not going to lose her。
So he kept some consideration for her； he preserved some
relationship。 He went out more often； to the 〃Red Lion〃 again；
to escape the madness of sitting next to her when she did not
belong to him； when she was as absent as any woman in
indifference could be。 He could not stay at home。 So he went to
the 〃Red Lion〃。 And sometimes he got drunk。 But he preserved his
measure； some things between them he never forfeited。
A tormented look came into his eyes； as if something were
always dogging him。 He glanced sharp and quick； he could not
bear to sit still doing nothing。 He had to go out； to find
pany； to give himself away there。 For he had no other outlet；
he could not work to give himself out； he had not the
knowledge。
As the months of her pregnancy went on； she left him more and
more alone； she was more and more unaware of him； his existence
was annulled。 And he felt bound down； bound； unable to stir；
beginning to go mad； ready to rave。 For she was quiet and
polite； as if he did not exist； as one is quiet and polite to a
servant。
Nevertheless she was great with his child； it was his turn to
submit。 She sat opposite him； sewing； her foreign face
inscrutable and indifferent。 He felt he wanted to break her into
acknowledgment of him； into awareness of him。 It was
insufferable that she had so obliterated him。 He would smash her
into regarding him。 He had a raging agony of desire to do
so。
But something bigger in him withheld him； kept him
motionless。 So he went out of the house for relief。 Or he turned
to the little girl for her sympathy and her love； he appealed
with all his power to the small Anna。 So soon they were like
lovers； father and child。
For he was afraid of his wife。 As she sat there with bent
head； silent； working or reading； but so unutterably silent that
his heart seemed under the millstone of it； she became herself
like the upper millstone lying on him； crushing him； as
sometimes a heavy sky lies on the earth。
Yet he knew he could not tear her away from the heavy
obscurity into which she was merged。 He must not try to tear her
into recognition of himself； and agreement with himself。 It were
disastrous； impious。 So； let him rage as he might； he must
withhold himself。 But his wrists trembled and seemed mad； seemed
as if they would burst。
When； in November； the leaves came beating against the window
shutters； with a lashing sound； he started； and his eyes
flickered with flame。 The dog looked up at him； he sunk his head
to the fire。 But his wife was startled。 He was aware of her
listening。
〃They blow up with a rattle；〃 he said。
〃What？〃 she asked。
〃The leaves。〃
She sank away again。 The strange leaves beating in the wind
on the wood had e nearer than she。 The tension in the room
was overpowering； it was difficult for him to move his head。 He
sat with every nerve； every vein； every fibre of muscle in his
body stret