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She was silent for a while。
〃You do not want to be with me any more；〃 she said。
It startled him。 How did she know this truth？ He thought it
was his secret。
〃Yi；〃 he said。
〃You want to find something else；〃 she said。
He did not answer。 〃Did he？〃 he asked himself。
〃You should not want so much attention；〃 she said。 〃You are
not a baby。〃
〃I'm not grumbling；〃 he said。 Yet he knew he was。
〃You think you have not enough；〃 she said。
〃How enough？〃
〃You think you have not enough in me。 But how do you know me？
What do you do to make me love you？〃
He was flabbergasted。
〃I never said I hadn't enough in you；〃 he replied。 〃I didn't
know you wanted making to love me。 What do you want？〃
〃You don't make it good between us any more； you are not
interested。 You do not make me want you。〃
〃And you don't make me want you； do you now？〃 There was a
silence。 They were such strangers。
〃Would you like to have another woman？〃 she asked。
His eyes grew round； he did not know where he was。 How could
she； his own wife； say such a thing？ But she sat there； small
and foreign and separate。 It dawned upon him she did not
consider herself his wife； except in so far as they agreed。 She
did not feel she had married him。 At any rate； she was willing
to allow he might want another woman。 A gap； a space opened
before him。
〃No；〃 he said slowly。 〃What other woman should I want？〃
〃Like your brother；〃 she said。
He was silent for some time； ashamed also。
〃What of her？〃 he said。 〃I didn't like the woman。〃
〃Yes； you liked her；〃 she answered persistently。
He stared in wonder at his own wife as she told him his own
heart so callously。 And he was indignant。 What right had she to
sit there telling him these things？ She was his wife； what right
had she to speak to him like this； as if she were a
stranger。
〃I didn't；〃 he said。 〃I want no woman。〃
〃Yes； you would like to be like Alfred。〃
His silence was one of angry frustration。 He was astonished。
He had told her of his visit to Wirksworth； but briefly； without
interest； he thought。
As she sat with her strange dark face turned towards him； her
eyes watched him； inscrutable； casting him up。 He began to
oppose her。 She was again the active unknown facing him。 Must he
admit her？ He resisted involuntarily。
〃Why should you want to find a woman who is more to you than
me？〃 she said。
The turbulence raged in his breast。
〃I don't；〃 he said。
〃Why do you？〃 she repeated。 〃Why do you want to deny me？〃
Suddenly； in a flash； he saw she might be lonely； isolated；
unsure。 She had seemed to him the utterly certain； satisfied；
absolute； excluding him。 Could she need anything？
〃Why aren't you satisfied with me？……I'm not satisfied
with you。 Paul used to e to me and take me like a man does。
You only leave me alone or take me like your cattle； quickly； to
forget me again……so that you can forget me again。〃
〃What am I to remember about you？〃 said Brangwen。
〃I want you to know there is somebody there besides
yourself。〃
〃Well； don't I know it？〃
〃You e to me as if it was for nothing； as if I was nothing
there。 When Paul came to me； I was something to him……a
woman； I was。 To you I am nothing……it is like
cattle……or nothing〃
〃You make me feel as if I was nothing；〃 he said。
They were silent。 She sat watching him。 He could not move；
his soul was seething and chaotic。 She turned to her sewing
again。 But the sight of her bent before him held him and would
not let him be。 She was a strange； hostile； dominant thing。 Yet
not quite hostile。 As he sat he felt his limbs were strong and
hard； he sat in strength。
She was silent for a long time； stitching。 He was aware；
poignantly； of the round shape of her head； very intimate；
pelling。 She lifted her head and sighed。 The blood burned in
him； her voice ran to him like fire。
〃e here；〃 she said； unsure。
For some moments he did not move。 Then he rose slowly and
went across the hearth。 It required an almost deathly effort of
volition； or of acquiescence。 He stood before her and looked
down at her。 Her face was shining again； her eyes were shining
again like terrible laughter。 It was to him terrible； how she
could be transfigured。 He could not look at her； it burnt his
heart。
〃My love！〃 she said。
And she put her arms round him as he stood before her round
his thighs； pressing him against her breast。 And her hands on
him seemed to reveal to him the mould of his own nakedness； he
was passionately lovely to himself。 He could not bear to look at
her。
〃My dear！〃 she said。 He knew she spoke a foreign language。
The fear was like bliss in his heart。 He looked down。 Her face
was shining； her eyes were full of light； she was awful。 He
suffered from the pulsion to her。 She was the awful unknown。
He bent down to her； suffering； unable to let go； unable to let
himself go； yet drawn； driven。 She was now the transfigured； she
was wonderful； beyond him。 He wanted to go。 But he could not as
yet kiss her。 He was himself apart。 Easiest he could kiss her
feet。 But he was too ashamed for the actual deed； which were
like an affront。 She waited for him to meet her； not to bow
before her and serve her。 She wanted his active participation；
not his submission。 She put her fingers on him。 And it was
torture to him； that he must give himself to her actively；
participate in her； that he must meet and embrace and know her；
who was other than himself。 There was that in him which shrank
from yielding to her； resisted the relaxing towards her； opposed
the mingling with her； even while he most desired it。 He was
afraid； he wanted to save himself。
There were a few moments of stillness。 Then gradually； the
tension； the withholding relaxed in him； and he began to flow
towards her。 She was beyond him； the unattainable。 But he let go
his hold on himself； he relinquished himself； and knew the
subterranean force of his desire to e to her； to be with her；
to mingle with her； losing himself to find her； to find himself
in her。 He began to approach her； to draw near。
His blood beat up in waves of desire。 He wanted to e to
her； to meet her。 She was there； if he could reach her。 The
reality of her who was just beyond him absorbed him。 Blind and
destroyed； he pressed forward； nearer； nearer； to receive the
consummation of himself； he received within the darkness which
should swallow him and yield him up to himself。 If he could e
really within the blazing kernel of darkness； if really he could
be destroyed； burnt away till he lit with her in one
consummation； that were supreme； supreme。
Their ing together now； after two years of married life；
was much more wonderful to them than it had been before。 It was
the entry into another circle of existence； it was the baptism
to another life； it was the plete confirmation。 Their feet
trod strange ground of knowledge； their footsteps were lit…up
with discovery。 Wherever they walked； it was well； the world
re…echoed round them in discovery。 They went gladly and
forgetful。 Everything was lost； and everything was found。 The
new world was discovered； it remained only to be explored。
They had passed through the doorway into the further space；
where movement was so big； that it contained bonds and
constraints and labours； and still was plete liberty。 She was
the doorway to him； he to her。 At last they had thrown open the
doors； each to the other； and had stood in the doorways facing
each other； whilst the light flooded out from behind on to each
of their faces； it was the transfiguration； glorification； the
admission。
And always the light of the transfiguration burned on in
their hearts。 He went his way； as before； she went her way； to
the rest of the world there seemed no change。 But to the two of
them； there was the perpetual wonder of the transfiguration。
He did not know her any better； any more precisely； now that
he knew her altogether。 Poland； her husband； the war……he
understood no more of this in her。 He did not understand her
foreign nature； half German； half Polish； nor her foreign
speech。 But he knew her； he knew her meaning； without
understanding。 What she said； what she spoke； this was a blind
gesture on her part。 In herself she walked strong and clear； he
knew her； he saluted her； was with her。 What was memory after
all； but the recording of a number of possibilities which had
never been fulfilled？ What was Paul Lensky to her； but an
unfulfilled possibility to which he； Brangwen； was the reality
and the fulfilment？ What did it matter； that Anna Lensky was
born of Lydia and Paul？ God was her father and her mother。 He
had passed through the married pair without fully making Himself
known to them。
Now He was declared to Brangwen and to Lydia Brangwen； as
they stood together。 When at last they had joined hands； the
house was finished； and the Lord took up his abode。 And they
were glad。
The days went on as before； Brangwen went out to his work；
his wife nursed her child and attended in some measure to the
farm。 They did not think of each other…why should they？ Only
when she touched him； he knew her instantly； that she was with
him； near him； that she was the gateway and the wa