-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
-
- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
-
- Стр. 229/388
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
’
I
always
leave
a
light
in
the
house
,
’
he
said
.
She
went
on
again
at
his
side
,
but
not
touching
him
,
wondering
why
she
was
going
with
him
at
all
.
He
unlocked
,
and
they
went
in
,
he
bolting
the
door
behind
them
.
As
if
it
were
a
prison
,
she
thought
!
The
kettle
was
singing
by
the
red
fire
,
there
were
cups
on
the
table
.
She
sat
in
the
wooden
arm
-
chair
by
the
fire
.
It
was
warm
after
the
chill
outside
.
’
I
’
ll
take
off
my
shoes
,
they
are
wet
,
’
she
said
.
She
sat
with
her
stockinged
feet
on
the
bright
steel
fender
.
He
went
to
the
pantry
,
bringing
food
:
bread
and
butter
and
pressed
tongue
.
She
was
warm
:
she
took
off
her
coat
.
He
hung
it
on
the
door
.
’
Shall
you
have
cocoa
or
tea
or
coffee
to
drink
?
’
he
asked
.
’
I
don
’
t
think
I
want
anything
,
’
she
said
,
looking
at
the
table
.
’
But
you
eat
.
’
’
Nay
,
I
don
’
t
care
about
it
.
I
’
ll
just
feed
the
dog
.
’
He
tramped
with
a
quiet
inevitability
over
the
brick
floor
,
putting
food
for
the
dog
in
a
brown
bowl
.
The
spaniel
looked
up
at
him
anxiously
.
