love came out of the ashes of this last pain。
Directly； it occurred to her that she was with child。 There
was a great trembling of wonder and anticipation through her
soul。 She wanted a child。 Not that she loved babies so much；
though she was touched by all young things。 But she wanted to
bear children。 And a certain hunger in her heart wanted to unite
her husband with herself； in a child。
She wanted a son。 She felt； a son would be everything。 She
wanted to tell her husband。 But it was such a trembling；
intimate thing to tell him； and he was at this time hard and
unresponsive。 So that she went away and wept。 It was such a
waste of a beautiful opportunity； such a frost that nipped in
the bud one of the beautiful moments of her life。 She went about
heavy and tremulous with her secret； wanting to touch him； oh；
most delicately； and see his face； dark and sensitive； attend to
her news。 She waited and waited for him to bee gentle and
still towards her。 But he was always harsh and he bullied
her。
So that the buds shrivelled from her confidence； she was
chilled。 She went down to the Marsh。
〃Well；〃 said her father； looking at her and seeing her at the
first glance； 〃what's amiss wi' you now？〃
The tears came at the touch of his careful love。
〃Nothing；〃 she said。
〃Can't you hit it off； you two？〃 he said。
〃He's so obstinate；〃 she quivered； but her soul was obdurate
itself。
〃Ay； an' I know another who's all that；〃 said her father。
She was silent。
〃You don't want to make yourselves miserable；〃 said her
father； 〃all about nowt。〃
〃He isn't miserable；〃 she said。
〃I'll back my life； if you can do nowt else； you can make him
as miserable as a dog。 You'd be a dab hand at that； my
lass。〃
〃I do nothing to make him miserable；〃 she retorted。
〃Oh no……oh no！ A packet o' butterscotch； you are。〃
She laughed a little。
〃You mustn't think I want him to be miserable；〃 she
cried。 〃I don't。〃
〃We quite readily believe it；〃 retorted Brangwen。 〃Neither do
you intend him to be hopping for joy like a fish in a pond。〃
This made her think。 She was rather surprised to find that
she did not intend her husband to be hopping for joy like
a fish in a pond。
Her mother came； and they all sat down to tea； talking
casually。
〃Remember； child；〃 said her mother； 〃that everything is not
waiting for your hand just to take or leave。 You mustn't
expect it。 Between two people； the love itself is the important
thing； and that is neither you nor him。 It is a third thing you
must create。 You mustn't expect it to be just your way。〃
〃Ha…nor do I。 If I did I should soon find my mistake out。 If
I put my hand out to take anything； my hand is very soon
bitten； I can tell you。〃
〃Then you must mind where you put your hand；〃 said her
father。
Anna was rather indignant that they took the tragedy of her
young married life ity。
〃You love the man right enough；〃 said her father； wrinkling
his forehead in distress。 〃That's all as counts。〃
〃I do love him； more shame to him；〃 she cried。 〃I want
to tell him……I've been waiting for four days now to tell
him〃 her face began to quiver； the tears came。 Her
parents watched her in silence。 She did not go on。
〃Tell him what？〃 said her father。
〃That we're going to have an infant；〃 she sobbed； 〃and he's
never； never let me； not once； every time I've e to him； he's
been horrid to me； and I wanted to tell him； I did。 And he won't
let me……he's cruel to me。〃
She sobbed as if her heart would break。 Her mother went and
forted her； put her arms round her； and held her close。 Her
father sat with a queer； wrinkled brow； and was rather paler
than usual。 His heart went tense with hatred of his
son…in…law。
So that； when the tale was sobbed out； and fort
administered and tea sipped； and something like calm restored to
the little circle； the thought of Will Brangwen's entry was not
pleasantly entertained。
Tilly was set to watch out for him as he passed by on his way
home。 The little party at table heard the woman's servant's
shrill call：
〃You've got to e in； Will。 Anna's here。〃
After a few moments； the youth entered。
〃Are you stopping？〃 he asked in his hard； harsh voice。
He seemed like a blade of destruction standing there。 She
quivered to tears。
〃Sit you down；〃 said Tom Brangwen； 〃an' take a bit off your
length。〃
Will Brangwen sat down。 He felt something strange in the
atmosphere。 He was dark browed； but his eyes had the keen；
intent； sharp look； as if he could only see in the distance；
which was a beauty in him； and which made Anna so angry。
〃Why does he always deny me？〃 she said to herself。 〃Why is it
nothing to him； what I am？〃
And Tom Brangwen； blue…eyed and warm； sat in opposition to
the youth。
〃How long are you stopping？〃 the young husband asked his
wife。
〃Not very long；〃 she said。
〃Get your tea； lad；〃 said Tom Brangwen。 〃Are you itchin' to
be off the moment you enter？〃
They talked of trivial things。 Through the open door the
level rays of sunset poured in； shining on the floor。 A grey hen
appeared stepping swiftly in the doorway； pecking； and the light
through her b and her wattles made an oriflamme tossed here
and there； as she went； her grey body was like a ghost。
Anna； watching； threw scraps of bread； and she felt the child
flame within her。 She seemed to remember again forgotten；
burning； far…off things。
〃Where was I born； mother？〃 she asked。
〃In London。〃
〃And was my father〃……she spoke of him as if he were
merely a strange name： she could never connect herself with
him……〃was he dark？〃
〃He had dark…brown hair and dark eyes and a fresh colouring。
He went bald； rather bald； when he was quite young；〃 replied her
mother； also as if telling a tale which was just old
imagination。
〃Was he good…looking？〃
〃Yes……he was very good…looking……rather small。 I
have never seen an Englishman who looked like him。〃
〃Why？〃
〃He was〃……the mother made a quick； running movement with
her hands……〃his figure was alive and changing……it was
never fixed。 He was not in the least steady……like a running
stream。〃
It flashed over the youth……Anna too was like a running
stream。 Instantly he was in love with her again。
Tom Brangwen was frightened。 His heart always filled with
fear； fear of the unknown； when he heard his women speak of
their bygone men as of strangers they had known in passing and
had taken leave of again。
In the room； there came a silence and a singleness over all
their hearts。 They were separate people with separate destinies。
Why should they seek each to lay violent hands of claim on the
other？
The young people went home as a sharp little moon was setting
in the dusk of spring。 Tufts of trees hovered in the upper air；
the little church pricked up shadowily at the top of the hill；
the earth was a dark blue shadow。
She put her hand lightly on his arm； out of her far distance。
And out of the distance； he felt her touch him。 They walked on；
hand in hand； along opposite horizons； touching across the dusk。
There was a sound of thrushes calling in the dark blue
twilight。
〃I think we are going to have an infant； Bill；〃 she said；
from far off。
He trembled； and his fingers tightened on hers。
〃Why？〃 he asked； his heart beating。 〃You don't know？〃
〃I do；〃 she said。
They continued without saying any more； walking along
opposite horizons； hand in hand across the intervening space；
two separate people。 And he trembled as if a wind blew on to him
in strong gusts； out of the unseen。 He was afraid。 He was afraid
to know he was alone。 For she seemed fulfilled and separate and
sufficient in her half of the world。 He could not bear to know
that he was cut off。 Why could he not be always one with her？ It
was he who had given her the child。 Why could she not be with
him； one with him？ Why must he be set in this separateness； why
could she not be with him； close； close； as one with him？ She
must be one with him。
He held her fingers tightly in his own。 She did not know what
he was thinking。 The blaze of light on her heart was too
beautiful and dazzling； from the conception in her womb。 She
walked glorified； and the sound of the thrushes； of the trains
in the valley； of the far…off； faint noises of the town； were
her 〃Magnificat〃。
But he was struggling in silence。 It seemed as though there
were before him a solid wall of darkness that impeded him and
suffocated him and made him mad。 He wanted her to e to him；
to plete him； to stand before him so that his eyes did not；
should not meet the naked darkness。 Nothing mattered to him but
that she should e and plete him。 For he was ridden by the
awful sense of his own limitation。 It was as if he ended
unpleted； as yet uncreated on the darkness； and he wanted her
to e and liberate him into the whole。
But she was plete in herself； and he was ashamed of his
need； his helpless need of her。 His need； and his shame of need；
weighed on him like a madness。 Yet still he was quiet and
gentle； in reverence of her conception； and because she was with
child by him。
And she was happy in showers of sunshine。 She loved her
husband； as a presence； as a grateful condition。 But for the
moment her need was fulfilled； and now she wanted only to hold
her husband by the hand in sheer happiness； without taking
thought； only being glad。
He had various folios of reproductions； and among them a
cheap print from Fra Angelico's 〃Entry of the Blessed into
Paradise〃。 This filled Anna with bliss。 The beautiful； innocent
way in which the Blessed held each other by the hand as they
moved towards the radiance； the real； real； angelic melody； made
her weep with happiness。 The floweriness； the beams of light；
the linking of hands； was almost too much for her； too
innocent。
Day after day came shining through the door of Paradise； day
after day she entered into the brightness。 The child in her
shone till she herself was a beam of sunshine； and how lovely
was the sunshine that loitered and wandered out of doors； where
the catkins on the big hazel bushes at the end of the garden
hung in their shaken； floating aureole； where little fumes like
fire burst out from the black yew trees as a bird settled
clinging to the branches。 One day bluebells were along the
hedge…bottoms； then cowslips twinkled like manna； golden and
evanescent on the meadows。 She was full of a rich drowsiness and
loneliness。 How happy she was； how gorgeous it was to live： to
have known herself； her husband； the passion of love and
begetting； and to know that all this lived and waited and burned
on around her； a terrible purifying fire； through which she had
passed for once to e to this peace of golden radiance； when
she was with child； and innocent； and in love with her husband
and with all the many angels hand in hand。 She lifted her throat
to the breeze that came across the fields； and she felt it
handling her like sisters fondling her； she drank it in perfume
of cowslips and of apple…blossoms。
And in all the happiness a black shadow； shy； wild； a beast
of prey； roamed and vanished from sight； and like strands of
gossamer blown across her eyes； there was a dread for her。
She was afraid when he came home at night