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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 143/388
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’
A
good
many
of
them
never
.
You
can
see
by
the
raw
look
of
them
.
’
He
spoke
unwittingly
,
regretting
he
had
begun
.
’
Have
you
come
off
like
that
with
other
women
?
’
He
looked
at
her
amused
.
’
I
don
’
t
know
,
’
he
said
,
’
I
don
’
t
know
.
’
And
she
knew
he
would
never
tell
her
anything
he
didn
’
t
want
to
tell
her
.
She
watched
his
face
,
and
the
passion
for
him
moved
in
her
bowels
.
She
resisted
it
as
far
as
she
could
,
for
it
was
the
loss
of
herself
to
herself
.
He
put
on
his
waistcoat
and
his
coat
,
and
pushed
a
way
through
to
the
path
again
.
The
last
level
rays
of
the
sun
touched
the
wood
.
’
I
won
’
t
come
with
you
,
’
he
said
;
’
better
not
.
’
She
looked
at
him
wistfully
before
she
turned
.
His
dog
was
waiting
so
anxiously
for
him
to
go
,
and
he
seemed
to
have
nothing
whatever
to
say
.
Nothing
left
.
Connie
went
slowly
home
,
realizing
the
depth
of
the
other
thing
in
her
.
Another
self
was
alive
in
her
,
burning
molten
and
soft
in
her
womb
and
bowels
,
and
with
this
self
she
adored
him
.
She
adored
him
till
her
knees
were
weak
as
she
walked
.
In
her
womb
and
bowels
she
was
flowing
and
alive
now
and
vulnerable
,
and
helpless
in
adoration
of
him
as
the
most
naive
woman
.
It
feels
like
a
child
,
she
said
to
herself
it
feels
like
a
child
in
me
.
And
so
it
did
,
as
if
her
womb
,
that
had
always
been
shut
,
had
opened
and
filled
with
new
life
,
almost
a
burden
,
yet
lovely
.
