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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 176/388
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The
cottage
stood
in
the
sun
,
off
the
wood
’
s
edge
.
In
the
little
garden
the
double
daffodils
rose
in
tufts
,
near
the
wide
-
open
door
,
and
red
double
daisies
made
a
border
to
the
path
.
There
was
the
bark
of
a
dog
,
and
Flossie
came
running
.
The
wide
-
open
door
!
so
he
was
at
home
.
And
the
sunlight
falling
on
the
red
-
brick
floor
!
As
she
went
up
the
path
,
she
saw
him
through
the
window
,
sitting
at
the
table
in
his
shirt
-
sleeves
,
eating
.
The
dog
wuffed
softly
,
slowly
wagging
her
tail
.
He
rose
,
and
came
to
the
door
,
wiping
his
mouth
with
a
red
handkerchief
still
chewing
.
’
May
I
come
in
?
’
she
said
.
’
Come
in
!
’
The
sun
shone
into
the
bare
room
,
which
still
smelled
of
a
mutton
chop
,
done
in
a
dutch
oven
before
the
fire
,
because
the
dutch
oven
still
stood
on
the
fender
,
with
the
black
potato
-
saucepan
on
a
piece
of
paper
,
beside
it
on
the
white
hearth
.
The
fire
was
red
,
rather
low
,
the
bar
dropped
,
the
kettle
singing
.
On
the
table
was
his
plate
,
with
potatoes
and
the
remains
of
the
chop
;
also
bread
in
a
basket
,
salt
,
and
a
blue
mug
with
beer
.
The
table
-
cloth
was
white
oil
-
cloth
,
he
stood
in
the
shade
.
’
You
are
very
late
,
’
she
said
.
’
Do
go
on
eating
!
’
She
sat
down
on
a
wooden
chair
,
in
the
sunlight
by
the
door
.
’
I
had
to
go
to
Uthwaite
,
’
he
said
,
sitting
down
at
the
table
but
not
eating
.
