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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 262/388
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’
Do
I
?
It
seems
to
me
I
’
ve
died
once
or
twice
already
.
Yet
here
I
am
,
pegging
on
,
and
in
for
more
trouble
.
’
She
was
thinking
hard
,
yet
listening
to
the
storm
.
’
And
weren
’
t
you
happy
as
an
officer
and
a
gentleman
,
when
your
Colonel
was
dead
?
’
’
No
!
They
were
a
mingy
lot
.
’
He
laughed
suddenly
.
’
The
Colonel
used
to
say
:
Lad
,
the
English
middle
classes
have
to
chew
every
mouthful
thirty
times
because
their
guts
are
so
narrow
,
a
bit
as
big
as
a
pea
would
give
them
a
stoppage
.
They
’
re
the
mingiest
set
of
ladylike
snipe
ever
invented
:
full
of
conceit
of
themselves
,
frightened
even
if
their
boot
-
laces
aren
’
t
correct
,
rotten
as
high
game
,
and
always
in
the
right
.
That
’
s
what
finishes
me
up
.
Kow
-
tow
,
kow
-
tow
,
arse
-
licking
till
their
tongues
are
tough
:
yet
they
’
re
always
in
the
right
.
Prigs
on
top
of
everything
.
Prigs
!
A
generation
of
ladylike
prigs
with
half
a
ball
each
-
-
’
Connie
laughed
.
The
rain
was
rushing
down
.
’
He
hated
them
!
’
’
No
,
’
said
he
.
’
He
didn
’
t
bother
.
He
just
disliked
them
.
There
’
s
a
difference
.
Because
,
as
he
said
,
the
Tommies
are
getting
just
as
priggish
and
half
-
balled
and
narrow
-
gutted
.
It
’
s
the
fate
of
mankind
,
to
go
that
way
.
’
’
The
common
people
too
,
the
working
people
?
’
’
All
the
lot
.
Their
spunk
is
gone
dead
.
Motor
-
cars
and
cinemas
and
aeroplanes
suck
that
last
bit
out
of
them
.
I
tell
you
,
every
generation
breeds
a
more
rabbity
generation
,
with
india
rubber
tubing
for
guts
and
tin
legs
and
tin
faces
.
Tin
people
!
It
’
s
all
a
steady
sort
of
bolshevism
just
killing
off
the
human
thing
,
and
worshipping
the
mechanical
thing
.
Money
,
money
,
money
!
All
the
modern
lot
get
their
real
kick
out
of
killing
the
old
human
feeling
out
of
man
,
making
mincemeat
of
the
old
Adam
and
the
old
Eve
.
They
’
re
all
alike
.
The
world
is
all
alike
:
kill
off
the
human
reality
,
a
quid
for
every
foreskin
,
two
quid
for
each
pair
of
balls
.
What
is
cunt
but
machine
-
fucking
!
-
-
It
’
s
all
alike
.
Pay
’
em
money
to
cut
off
the
world
’
s
cock
.
Pay
money
,
money
,
money
to
them
that
will
take
spunk
out
of
mankind
,
and
leave
’
em
all
little
twiddling
machines
.
