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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 120/388
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He
kissed
her
softly
,
softly
,
with
the
kisses
of
warmth
.
’
If
only
there
weren
’
t
so
many
other
people
in
the
world
,
’
he
said
lugubriously
.
She
laughed
.
They
were
at
the
gate
to
the
park
.
He
opened
it
for
her
.
’
I
won
’
t
come
any
further
,
’
he
said
.
’
No
!
’
And
she
held
out
her
hand
,
as
if
to
shake
hands
.
But
he
took
it
in
both
his
.
’
Shall
I
come
again
?
’
she
asked
wistfully
.
’
Yes
!
Yes
!
’
She
left
him
and
went
across
the
park
.
He
stood
back
and
watched
her
going
into
the
dark
,
against
the
pallor
of
the
horizon
.
Almost
with
bitterness
he
watched
her
go
.
She
had
connected
him
up
again
,
when
he
had
wanted
to
be
alone
.
She
had
cost
him
that
bitter
privacy
of
a
man
who
at
last
wants
only
to
be
alone
.
He
turned
into
the
dark
of
the
wood
.
All
was
still
,
the
moon
had
set
.
But
he
was
aware
of
the
noises
of
the
night
,
the
engines
at
Stacks
Gate
,
the
traffic
on
the
main
road
.
Slowly
he
climbed
the
denuded
knoll
.
And
from
the
top
he
could
see
the
country
,
bright
rows
of
lights
at
Stacks
Gate
,
smaller
lights
at
Tevershall
pit
,
the
yellow
lights
of
Tevershall
and
lights
everywhere
,
here
and
there
,
on
the
dark
country
,
with
the
distant
blush
of
furnaces
,
faint
and
rosy
,
since
the
night
was
clear
,
the
rosiness
of
the
outpouring
of
white
-
hot
metal
.
Sharp
,
wicked
electric
lights
at
Stacks
Gate
!
An
undefinable
quick
of
evil
in
them
!
And
all
the
unease
,
the
ever
-
shifting
dread
of
the
industrial
night
in
the
Midlands
.
