He was a man in dark green velveteens and gaiters...the old style, with a red face and red moustache and distant eyes. He was going quickly downhill.
'Mellors!' called Clifford.
The man faced lightly round, and saluted with a quick little gesture, a soldier!
'Will you turn the chair round and get it started? That makes it easier,' said Clifford.
The man at once slung his g*n over his shoulder, and came forward with the same curious swift, yet soft movements, as if keeping invisible. He was moderately tall and lean, and was silent. He did not look at Connie at all, only at the chair.
'Connie, this is the new game-keeper, Mellors. You haven't spoken to her ladyship yet, Mellors?'
'No, Sir!' came the ready, neutral words.
The man lifted his hat as he stood, showing his thick, almost fa
