‘Listen. The more men you’ve had, the more I love you. Do you understand that?’
‘Yes, perfectly.’
‘I hate purity, I hate goodness! I don’t want any virtue
to exist anywhere. I want everyone to be corrupt to the bones.’ ‘Well then, I ought to suit you, dear. I’m corrupt to the bones.’ ‘You like doing this? I don’t mean simply me: I mean the thing in itself?’
‘I adore it.’
That was above all what he wanted to hear. Not merely the love of one person but the animal instinct, the simple undifferentiated desire: that was the force that would tear the Party to pieces. He pressed her down upon the grass, among the fallen bluebells. This time there was no difficulty. Presently the rising and falling of their breasts slowed to normal speed, and in a sort of pleasant helplessness they fell apart. The sun seemed to have grown hotter. They were both sleepy. He reached out for the discarded overalls and pulled them partly over her. Almost immediately they fell asleep and slept for about half an hour.