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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 219/388
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’
No
.
No
!
’
He
turned
away
almost
angrily
.
There
was
dead
silence
.
The
back
of
Clifford
’
s
fair
head
did
not
move
.
Even
the
dog
stood
motionless
.
The
sky
had
clouded
over
.
At
last
he
sighed
,
and
blew
his
nose
on
his
red
handkerchief
.
’
That
pneumonia
took
a
lot
out
of
me
,
’
he
said
.
No
one
answered
.
Connie
calculated
the
amount
of
strength
it
must
have
taken
to
heave
up
that
chair
and
the
bulky
Clifford
:
too
much
,
far
too
much
!
If
it
hadn
’
t
killed
him
!
He
rose
,
and
again
picked
up
his
coat
,
slinging
it
through
the
handle
of
the
chair
.
’
Are
you
ready
,
then
,
Sir
Clifford
?
’
’
When
you
are
!
’
He
stooped
and
took
out
the
scotch
,
then
put
his
weight
against
the
chair
.
He
was
paler
than
Connie
had
ever
seen
him
:
and
more
absent
.
Clifford
was
a
heavy
man
:
and
the
hill
was
steep
.
Connie
stepped
to
the
keeper
’
s
side
.
’
I
’
m
going
to
push
too
!
’
she
said
.
