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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 21/388
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He
was
the
trembling
excited
sort
of
lover
,
whose
crisis
soon
came
,
and
was
finished
.
There
was
something
curiously
childlike
and
defenceless
about
his
naked
body
:
as
children
are
naked
.
His
defences
were
all
in
his
wits
and
cunning
,
his
very
instincts
of
cunning
,
and
when
these
were
in
abeyance
he
seemed
doubly
naked
and
like
a
child
,
of
unfinished
,
tender
flesh
,
and
somehow
struggling
helplessly
.
He
roused
in
the
woman
a
wild
sort
of
compassion
and
yearning
,
and
a
wild
,
craving
physical
desire
.
The
physical
desire
he
did
not
satisfy
in
her
;
he
was
always
come
and
finished
so
quickly
,
then
shrinking
down
on
her
breast
,
and
recovering
somewhat
his
effrontery
while
she
lay
dazed
,
disappointed
,
lost
.
But
then
she
soon
learnt
to
hold
him
,
to
keep
him
there
inside
her
when
his
crisis
was
over
.
And
there
he
was
generous
and
curiously
potent
;
he
stayed
firm
inside
her
,
giving
to
her
,
while
she
was
active
.
.
.
wildly
,
passionately
active
,
coming
to
her
own
crisis
.
And
as
he
felt
the
frenzy
of
her
achieving
her
own
orgasmic
satisfaction
from
his
hard
,
erect
passivity
,
he
had
a
curious
sense
of
pride
and
satisfaction
.
’
Ah
,
how
good
!
’
she
whispered
tremulously
,
and
she
became
quite
still
,
clinging
to
him
.
And
he
lay
there
in
his
own
isolation
,
but
somehow
proud
.
He
stayed
that
time
only
the
three
days
,
and
to
Clifford
was
exactly
the
same
as
on
the
first
evening
;
to
Connie
also
.
There
was
no
breaking
down
his
external
man
.
He
wrote
to
Connie
with
the
same
plaintive
melancholy
note
as
ever
,
sometimes
witty
,
and
touched
with
a
queer
,
sexless
affection
.
A
kind
of
hopeless
affection
he
seemed
to
feel
for
her
,
and
the
essential
remoteness
remained
the
same
He
was
hopeless
at
the
very
core
of
him
,
and
he
wanted
to
be
hopeless
.
He
rather
hated
hope
.
’
Une
immense
esprance
a
travers
la
terre
’
,
he
read
somewhere
,
and
his
comment
was
:
’
-
-
and
it
’
s
darned
-
well
drowned
everything
worth
having
.
’
Connie
never
really
understood
him
,
but
,
in
her
way
,
she
loved
him
.
And
all
the
time
she
felt
the
reflection
of
his
hopelessness
in
her
.
She
couldn
’
t
quite
,
quite
love
in
hopelessness
.
And
he
,
being
hopeless
,
couldn
’
t
ever
quite
love
at
all
.
So
they
went
on
for
quite
a
time
,
writing
,
and
meeting
occasionally
in
London
.
She
still
wanted
the
physical
,
sexual
thrill
she
could
get
with
him
by
her
own
activity
,
his
little
orgasm
being
over
.
And
he
still
wanted
to
give
it
her
.
Which
was
enough
to
keep
them
connected
.
