his friends； receiving their regard gratefully； glad of their
attention。 His heart was tormented within him； he did not try to
smile。 The time of his trial and his admittance； his Gethsemane
and his Triumphal Entry in one； had e now。
Behind her； there was so much unknown to him。 When he
approached her； he came to such a terrible painful unknown。 How
could he embrace it and fathom it？ How could he close his arms
round all this darkness and hold it to his breast and give
himself to it？ What might not happen to him？ If he stretched and
strained for ever he would never be able to grasp it all； and to
yield himself naked out of his own hands into the unknown power！
How could a man be strong enough to take her； put his arms round
her and have her； and be sure he could conquer this awful
unknown next his heart？ What was it then that she was； to which
he must also deliver himself up； and which at the same time he
must embrace； contain？
He was to be her husband。 It was established so。 And he
wanted it more than he wanted life； or anything。 She stood
beside him in her silk dress； looking at him strangely； so that
a certain terror； horror took possession of him； because she was
strange and impending and he had no choice。 He could not bear to
meet her look from under her strange； thick brows。
〃Is it late？〃 she said。
He looked at his watch。
〃No……half…past eleven；〃 he said。 And he made an excuse
to go into the kitchen； leaving her standing in the room among
the disorder and the drinking…glasses。
Tilly was seated beside the fire in the kitchen； her head in
her hands。 She started up when he entered。
〃Why haven't you gone to bed？〃 he said。
〃I thought I'd better stop an' lock up an' do；〃 she said。 Her
agitation quietened him。 He gave her some little order； then
returned； steadied now； almost ashamed； to his wife。 She stood a
moment watching him； as he moved with averted face。 Then she
said：
〃You will be good to me； won't you？〃
She was small and girlish and terrible； with a queer； wide
look in her eyes。 His heart leaped in him； in anguish of love
and desire； he went blindly to her and took her in his arms。
〃I want to；〃 he said as he drew her closer and closer in。 She
was soothed by the stress of his embrace； and remained quite
still； relaxed against him； mingling in to him。 And he let
himself go from past and future； was reduced to the moment with
her。 In which he took her and was with her and there was nothing
beyond； they were together in an elemental embrace beyond their
superficial foreignness。 But in the morning he was uneasy again。
She was still foreign and unknown to him。 Only； within the fear
was pride； belief in himself as mate for her。 And she；
everything forgotten in her new hour of ing to life； radiated
vigour and joy； so that he quivered to touch her。
It made a great difference to him； marriage。 Things became so
remote and of so little significance； as he knew the powerful
source of his life； his eyes opened on a new universe； and he
wondered in thinking of his triviality before。 A new； calm
relationship showed to him in the things he saw； in the cattle
he used； the young wheat as it eddied in a wind。
And each time he returned home； he went steadily；
expectantly； like a man who goes to a profound； unknown
satisfaction。 At dinner…time； he appeared in the doorway；
hanging back a moment from entering； to see if she was there。 He
saw her setting the plates on the white…scrubbed table。 Her arms
were slim； she had a slim body and full skirts； she had a dark；
shapely head with close…banded hair。 Somehow it was her head； so
shapely and poignant； that revealed her his woman to him。 As she
moved about clothed closely； full…skirted and wearing her little
silk apron； her dark hair smoothly parted； her head revealed
itself to him in all its subtle； intrinsic beauty； and he knew
she was his woman； he knew her essence； that it was his to
possess。 And he seemed to live thus in contact with her； in
contact with the unknown； the unaccountable and
incalculable。
They did not take much notice of each other； consciously。
〃I'm betimes；〃 he said。
〃Yes；〃 she answered。
He turned to the dogs； or to the child if she was there。 The
little Anna played about the farm； flitting constantly in to
call something to her mother； to fling her arms round her
mother's skirts； to be noticed； perhaps caressed； then；
forgetting； to slip out again。
Then Brangwen； talking to the child； or to the dog between
his knees； would be aware of his wife； as； in her tight； dark
bodice and her lace fichu； she was reaching up to the corner
cupboard。 He realized with a sharp pang that she belonged to
him； and he to her。 He realized that he lived by her。 Did he own
her？ Was she here for ever？ Or might she go away？ She was not
really his； it was not a real marriage； this marriage between
them。 She might go away。 He did not feel like a master； husband；
father of her children。 She belonged elsewhere。 Any moment； she
might be gone。 And he was ever drawn to her； drawn after her；
with ever…raging； ever…unsatisfied desire。 He must always turn
home； wherever his steps were taking him； always to her； and he
could never quite reach her； he could never quite be satisfied；
never be at peace； because she might go away。
At evening； he was glad。 Then； when he had finished in the
yard； and e in and washed himself； when the child was put to
bed； he could sit on the other side of the fire with his beer on
the hob and his long white pipe in his fingers； conscious of her
there opposite him； as she worked at her embroidery； or as she
talked to him； and he was safe with her now； till morning。 She
was curiously self…sufficient and did not say very much。
Occasionally she lifted her head； her grey eyes shining with a
strange light； that had nothing to do with him or with this
place； and would tell him about herself。 She seemed to be back
again in the past； chiefly in her childhood or her girlhood；
with her father。 She very rarely talked of her first husband。
But sometimes； all shining…eyed； she was back at her own home；
telling him about the riotous times； the trip to Paris with her
father； tales of the mad acts of the peasants when a burst of
religious； self…hurting fervour had passed over the country。
She would lift her head and say：
〃When they brought the railway across the country； they made
afterwards smaller railways； of shorter width； to e down to
our town…a hundred miles。 When I was a girl； Gisla； my German
gouvernante； was very shocked and she would not tell me。 But I
heard the servants talking。 I remember； it was Pierre； the
coachman。 And my father； and some of his friends； landowners；
they had taken a wagon； a whole railway wagon……that you
travel in〃
〃A railway…carriage；〃 said Brangwen。
She laughed to herself。
〃I know it was a great scandal： yes……a whole wagon； and
they had girls； you know； filles； naked； all the
wagon…full； and so they came down to our village。 They came
through villages of the Jews； and it was a great scandal。 Can
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 tr