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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 158/388
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’
You
needn
’
t
try
,
’
laughed
Connie
.
And
Mrs
Bolton
sailed
down
with
the
huge
and
very
black
box
in
her
arms
,
flushing
bright
pink
in
her
excitement
.
Mr
Betts
drove
her
in
the
trap
to
her
house
in
the
village
,
with
the
box
.
And
she
had
to
have
a
few
friends
in
,
to
show
it
:
the
school
-
mistress
,
the
chemist
’
s
wife
,
Mrs
Weedon
the
undercashier
’
s
wife
.
They
thought
it
marvellous
.
And
then
started
the
whisper
of
Lady
Chatterley
’
s
child
.
’
Wonders
’
ll
never
cease
!
’
said
Mrs
Weedon
.
But
Mrs
Bolton
was
convinced
,
if
it
did
come
,
it
would
be
Sir
Clifford
’
s
child
.
So
there
!
Not
long
after
,
the
rector
said
gently
to
Clifford
:
’
And
may
we
really
hope
for
an
heir
to
Wragby
?
Ah
,
that
would
be
the
hand
of
God
in
mercy
,
indeed
!
’
’
Well
!
We
may
hope
,
’
said
Clifford
,
with
a
faint
irony
,
and
at
the
same
time
,
a
certain
conviction
.
He
had
begun
to
believe
it
really
possible
it
might
even
be
his
child
.
Then
one
afternoon
came
Leslie
Winter
,
Squire
Winter
,
as
everybody
called
him
:
lean
,
immaculate
,
and
seventy
:
and
every
inch
a
gentleman
,
as
Mrs
Bolton
said
to
Mrs
Betts
.
Every
millimetre
indeed
!
And
with
his
old
-
fashioned
,
rather
haw
-
haw
!
manner
of
speaking
,
he
seemed
more
out
of
date
than
bag
wigs
.
Time
,
in
her
flight
,
drops
these
fine
old
feathers
.
