she felt the great Separator who held life in His hands；
gleaming； imminent； terrible； the Great Mystery； immediate
beyond all telling。
She shone and gleamed to the Mystery； Whom she knew through
all her senses； she glanced with strange； mystic superstitions
that never found expression in the English language； never
mounted to thought in English。 But so she lived； within a
potent； sensuous belief that included her family and contained
her destiny。
To this she had reduced her husband。 He existed with her
entirely indifferent to the general values of the world。 Her
very ways； the very mark of her eyebrows were symbols and
indication to him。 There； on the farm with her； he lived through
a mystery of life and death and creation； strange； profound
ecstasies and inmunicable satisfactions； of which the rest of
the world knew nothing； which made the pair of them apart and
respected in the English village； for they were also
well…to…do。
But Anna was only half safe within her mother's unthinking
knowledge。 She had a mother…of…pearl rosary that had been her
own father's。 What it meant to her she could never say。 But the
string of moonlight and silver； when she had it between her
fingers； filled her with strange passion。 She learned at school
a little Latin； she learned an Ave Maria and a Pater Noster； she
learned how to say her rosary。 But that was no good。 〃Ave Maria；
gratia plena； Dominus tecum； Benedicta tu in mulieribus et
benedictus fructus ventris tui Jesus。 Ave Maria； Sancta Maria；
ora pro nobis peccatoribus； nunc et in hora mortis nostrae；
Amen。〃
It was not right； somehow。 What these words meant when
translated was not the same as the pale rosary meant。 There was
a discrepancy； a falsehood。 It irritated her to say； 〃Dominus
tecum；〃 or； 〃benedicta tu in mulieribus。〃 She loved the mystic
words； 〃Ave Maria； Sancta Maria；〃 she was moved by 〃benedictus
fructus ventris tui Jesus；〃 and by 〃nunc et in hora mortis
nostrae。〃 But none of it was quite real。 It was not
satisfactory； somehow。
She avoided her rosary； because； moving her with curious
passion as it did； it meant only these not very
significant things。 She put it away。 It was her instinct to put
all these things away。 It was her instinct to avoid thinking； to
avoid it； to save herself。
She was seventeen； touchy； full of spirits； and very moody：
quick to flush； and always uneasy； uncertain。 For some reason or
other； she turned more to her father； she felt almost flashes of
hatred for her mother。 Her mother's dark muzzle and curiously
insidious ways； her mother's utter surety and confidence； her
strange satisfaction； even triumph； her mother's way of laughing
at things and her mother's silent overriding of vexatious
propositions； most of all her mother's triumphant power maddened
the girl。
She became sudden and incalculable。 Often she stood at the
window； looking out； as if she wanted to go。 Sometimes she went；
she mixed with people。 But always she came home in anger； as if
she were diminished； belittled； almost degraded。
There was over the house a kind of dark silence and
intensity； in which passion worked its inevitable conclusions。
There was in the house a sort of richness； a deep； inarticulate
interchange which made other places seem thin and unsatisfying。
Brangwen could sit silent； smoking in his chair； the mother
could move about in her quiet； insidious way； and the sense of
the two presences was powerful； sustaining。 The whole
intercourse was wordless； intense and close。
But Anna was uneasy。 She wanted to get away。 Yet wherever she
went； there came upon her that feeling of thinness； as if she
were made smaller； belittled。 She hastened home。
There she raged and interrupted the strong； settled
interchange。 Sometimes her mother turned on her with a fierce；
destructive anger； in which was no pity or consideration。 And
Anna shrank； afraid。 She went to her father。
He would still listen to the spoken word； which fell sterile
on the unheeding mother。 Sometimes Anna talked to her father。
She tried to discuss people； she wanted to know what was meant。
But her father became uneasy。 He did not want to have things
dragged into consciousness。 Only out of consideration for her he
listened。 And there was a kind of bristling rousedness in the
room。 The cat got up and stretching itself； went uneasily to the
door。 Mrs。 Brangwen was silent； she seemed ominous。 Anna could
not go on with her fault…finding； her criticism； her expression
of dissatisfactions。 She felt even her father against her。 He
had a strong； dark bond with her mother； a potent intimacy that
existed inarticulate and wild； following its own course； and
savage if interrupted； uncovered。
Nevertheless Brangwen was uneasy about the girl； the whole
house continued to be disturbed。 She had a pathetic； baffled
appeal。 She was hostile to her parents； even whilst she lived
entirely with them； within their spell。
Many ways she tried； of escape。 She became an assiduous
church…goer。 But the language meant nothing to her： it
seemed false。 She hated to hear things expressed； put into
words。 Whilst the religious feelings were inside her they were
passionately moving。 In the mouth of the clergyman； they were
false； indecent。 She tried to read。 But again the tedium and the
sense of the falsity of the spoken word put her off。 She went to
stay with girl friends。 At first she thought it splendid。 But
then the inner boredom came on； it seemed to her all
nothingness。 And she felt always belittled； as if never； never
could she stretch her length and stride her stride。
Her mind reverted often to the torture cell of a certain
Bishop of France； in which the victim could neither stand nor
lie stretched out； never。 Not that she thought of herself in any
connection with this。 But often there came into her mind the
wonder； how the cell was built； and she could feel the horror of
the crampedness； as something very real。
She was； however； only eighteen when a letter came from Mrs。
Alfred Brangwen； in Nottingham； saying that her son William was
ing to Ilkeston to take a place as junior draughtsman；
scarcely more than apprentice； in a lace factory。 He was twenty
years old； and would the Marsh Brangwens be friendly with
him。
Tom Brangwen at once wrote offering the young man a home at
the Marsh。 This was not accepted； but the Nottingham Brangwens
expressed gratitude。
There had never been much love lost between the Nottingham
Brangwens and the Marsh。 Indeed； Mrs。 Alfred； having inherited
three thousand pounds； and having occasion to be dissatisfied
with her husband； held aloof from all the Brangwens whatsoever。
She affected； however； some esteem of Mrs。 Tom； as she called
the Polish woman； saying that at any rate she was a lady。
Anna Brangwen was faintly excited at the news of her Cousin
Will's ing to Ilkeston。 She knew plenty of young men； but
they had never bee real to her。 She had seen in this young
gallant a nose she liked； in that a pleasant moustache； in the
other a nice way of wearing clothes； in one a ridiculous fringe
of hair； in another a ical way of talking。 They were objects
of amusement and faint won