iriam did not satisfy him. His old mad
desire to be with her grew weaker. Sometimes he met Clara in Nottingham,
sometimes he went to meetings with her, sometimes he saw her at Willey
Farm. But on these last occasions the situation became strained. There
was a triangle of antagonism between Paul and Clara and Miriam. With
Clara he took on a smart, worldly, mocking tone very antagonistic to
Miriam. It did not matter what went before. She might be intimate and
sad with him. Then as soon as Clara appeared, it all vanished, and he
played to the newcomer.

Miriam had one beautiful evening with him in the hay. He had been on
the horse-rake, and having finished, came to help her to put the hay in
cocks. Then he talked to her of his hopes and despairs, and his whole
soul seemed to lie bare before her. She felt as if she watched the very
quivering stuff of life in him. The moon came out: they walked home
together: he seemed to have come to her because he needed her so badly,
and she listened to him, gave him all her love and her faith. It seemed
to her he brought her the best of himself to keep, and that she would
guard it all her life. Nay, the sky did not cherish the stars more
surely and eternally than she would guard the good in the soul of Paul
Morel. She went on home alone, feeling exalted, glad in her faith.

And then, the next day, Clara came. They were to have tea in the
hayfield. Miriam watched the evening drawing to gold and shadow. And all
the time Paul was sporting with Clara. He made higher and higher heaps
of hay that they were jumping over. Miriam did not care for the game,
and stood aside. Edgar and Geoffrey and Maurice and Clara and Paul
jumped. Paul won, because he was light. Clara's blood was roused. She
could run like an Amazon. Paul loved the determined way she rushed at
the hay-cock and leaped, landed on the other side, her breasts shaken,
her thick hair come undone.

"You touched!" he cried. "You touched!"

"No!" she flashed, turning to Edgar. "I didn't touch, did I? Wasn't I
clear?"

"I couldn't say," laughed Edgar.

None of them could say.

"But you touched," said Paul. "You're beaten."

"I did NOT touch!" she cried.

"As plain as anything," said Paul.

"Box his ears for me!" she cried to Edgar.

"Nay," Edgar laughed. "I daren't. You must do it yourself."

"And nothing can alter the fact that you touched," laughed Paul.

She was furious with him. Her little triumph before these lads and m