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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 209/388
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’
White
lambs
only
,
’
he
replied
.
A
shadow
crossed
the
little
clearing
.
The
mole
had
swum
out
on
to
the
soft
yellow
earth
.
’
Unpleasant
little
beast
,
we
ought
to
kill
him
,
’
said
Clifford
.
’
Look
!
he
’
s
like
a
parson
in
a
pulpit
,
’
she
said
.
She
gathered
some
sprigs
of
woodruff
and
brought
them
to
him
.
’
New
-
mown
hay
!
’
he
said
.
’
Doesn
’
t
it
smell
like
the
romantic
ladies
of
the
last
century
,
who
had
their
heads
screwed
on
the
right
way
after
all
!
’
She
was
looking
at
the
white
clouds
.
’
I
wonder
if
it
will
rain
,
’
she
said
.
’
Rain
!
Why
!
Do
you
want
it
to
?
’
They
started
on
the
return
journey
,
Clifford
jolting
cautiously
downhill
.
They
came
to
the
dark
bottom
of
the
hollow
,
turned
to
the
right
,
and
after
a
hundred
yards
swerved
up
the
foot
of
the
long
slope
,
where
bluebells
stood
in
the
light
.
