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But he was keeper here for two years before the war ... My father always had a good opinion of him, so when he came back, and went to the pit for a blacksmith's job, I just took him back here as keeper. it's almost impossible to find a good man round here, for a gamekeeper ... and it needs a man who knows the people." "And isn't he married?" "He was. but finally with a collier at Stacks Gate, and I believe she's living there still." "So this man is alone?" "More or less! and a child, I believe." Clifford looked at Connie, with his pale, slightly prominent blue eyes, in which a certain vagueness was coming. He seemed alert in the foreground, but the background was like the Midlands atmosphere, haze, smoky mist.

So when he stared at Connie in his peculiar way, giving her his peculiar, precise information, she felt all the background of his mind filling up with mist, with nothingness.

And dimly she realised one of the great laws of the human soul: that when the emotional soul receives a wounding shock, which does not kill the body, the soul seems to recover as the body recovers.

It is really amatuer brunette hairy pussy homemade porn only the mechanism of the re-assumed habit.

Slowly, slowly the wound to the soul begins to make itself felt, like a bruise, which only slowly deepens its terrible ache, till it fills all the psyche.

And when we think we have recovered and forgotten, it is then that the terrible after-effects have to be encountered at their worst. Once he was "well," once he was back at Wragby, and writing his stories, and feeling sure of life, in spite of all, he seemed to forget, pussy orgy eating porn and to have recovered all his equanimity. But now, as the years went by, slowly, slowly, Connie felt the bruise of fear and horror coming up, and spreading in him.

For a time it had been so deep as to be numb, as it were non-existent.

Now slowly it began to assert itself in a spread of fear, almost paralysis. But the paralysis, the bruise of the too great shock, was gradually spreading in his affective self. And as it spread in him, Connie felt it spread in her.

An inward dread, an emptiness, an indifference to everything gradually spread in her soul.

When Clifford was roused, he could still talk brilliantly, and as it were, command the future: as when, in the amatuer brunette hairy pussy homemade porn wood, he talked about her having a child, and amatuer brunette hairy pussy homemade porn giving an heir to Wragby. But the day after, all the brilliant rape young hairy pussy words seemed like dead leaves, crumpling up and turning to powder, meaning really nothing, blown away on any gust of wind. They were not the leafy words of an effective life, young with energy and belonging to the tree. They were the hosts of fallen leaves of a life that is ineffectual. The colliers at Tevershall were talking again of a strike, and it seemed to Connie there again it was not a manifestation of energy, it was the bruise of the war that had been in abeyance, slowly rising to the surface and creating the great ache of unrest, and stupor of discontent.

It would take many years for the living blood of the generations to dissolve the vast black clot of bruised amatuer brunette hairy pussy homemade porn blood, deep inside their souls and bodies. As the years drew on it was the fear of nothingness in her life that affected her. Clifford's mental life and hers gradually began to feel like nothingness.

Their marriage, their integrated life based on a habit of intimacy, that he talked about: there were days when it all became utterly blank and nothing.

The amatuer brunette hairy pussy homemade porn only reality was nothingness, and over it a hypocrisy of words. It was true he was pussy teasing porn gif almost famous, and his books brought him in a thousand pounds. There was a bust of him in one of the galleries, and a portrait of him in two galleries. With his uncanny lame instinct for publicity, he had become in four or five years one of the best known of the young "intellectuals." Where the intellect came in, Connie did not quite see. Clifford was really clever at that slightly humorous analysis of people and motives which leaves everything in bits at the end. But it was rather like puppies tearing the sofa cushions to bits; except that it was not young and playful, but curiously old, and rather obstinately conceited. This was the feeling that echoed and re-echoed at the bottom of Connie's soul: it was all nothing, a wonderful display of nothingness.

Michaelis had seized upon Clifford as the central figure for a amatuer brunette hairy pussy homemade porn play; already he had sketched in the plot, and written the first act. For Michaelis was even better than Clifford at making a display of nothingness. It was the last bit of passion left in these men: the passion for making a display.

Clifford had never been primarily out for money, though he made it where he could, for money is the seal and stamp of success. They wanted, both of them, to make a real display ...

a man's own very display of himself, that should capture for a time the vast populace. To Connie, since she was really outside of it, and since she had grown numb to the thrill of it, it was again nothingness.