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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 331/388
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Daniele
was
beautiful
,
tall
and
well
-
shapen
,
with
a
light
round
head
of
little
,
close
,
pale
-
blond
curls
,
and
a
good
-
looking
man
’
s
face
,
a
little
like
a
lion
,
and
long
-
distance
blue
eyes
.
He
was
not
effusive
,
loquacious
,
and
bibulous
like
Giovanni
.
He
was
silent
and
he
rowed
with
a
strength
and
ease
as
if
he
were
alone
on
the
water
.
The
ladies
were
ladies
,
remote
from
him
.
He
did
not
even
look
at
them
.
He
looked
ahead
.
He
was
a
real
man
,
a
little
angry
when
Giovanni
drank
too
much
wine
and
rowed
awkwardly
,
with
effusive
shoves
of
the
great
oar
.
He
was
a
man
as
Mellors
was
a
man
,
unprostituted
.
Connie
pitied
the
wife
of
the
easily
-
overflowing
Giovanni
.
But
Daniele
’
s
wife
would
be
one
of
those
sweet
Venetian
women
of
the
people
whom
one
still
sees
,
modest
and
flower
-
like
in
the
back
of
that
labyrinth
of
a
town
.
Ah
,
how
sad
that
man
first
prostitutes
woman
,
then
woman
prostitutes
man
.
Giovanni
was
pining
to
prostitute
himself
,
dribbling
like
a
dog
,
wanting
to
give
himself
to
a
woman
.
And
for
money
!
Connie
looked
at
Venice
far
off
,
low
and
rose
-
coloured
upon
the
water
.
Built
of
money
,
blossomed
of
money
,
and
dead
with
money
.
The
money
-
deadness
!
Money
,
money
,
money
,
prostitution
and
deadness
.
Yet
Daniele
was
still
a
man
capable
of
a
man
’
s
free
allegiance
.
He
did
not
wear
the
gondolier
’
s
blouse
:
only
the
knitted
blue
jersey
.
He
was
a
little
wild
,
uncouth
and
proud
.
So
he
was
hireling
to
the
rather
doggy
Giovanni
who
was
hireling
again
to
two
women
.
So
it
is
!
When
Jesus
refused
the
devil
’
s
money
,
he
left
the
devil
like
a
Jewish
banker
,
master
of
the
whole
situation
.
Connie
would
come
home
from
the
blazing
light
of
the
lagoon
in
a
kind
of
stupor
,
to
find
letters
from
home
.
Clifford
wrote
regularly
.
He
wrote
very
good
letters
:
they
might
all
have
been
printed
in
a
book
.
And
for
this
reason
Connie
found
them
not
very
interesting
.
She
lived
in
the
stupor
of
the
light
of
the
lagoon
,
the
lapping
saltiness
of
the
water
,
the
space
,
the
emptiness
,
the
nothingness
:
but
health
,
health
,
complete
stupor
of
health
.
It
was
gratifying
,
and
she
was
lulled
away
in
it
,
not
caring
for
anything
.
Besides
,
she
was
pregnant
.
She
knew
now
.
So
the
stupor
of
sunlight
and
lagoon
salt
and
sea
-
bathing
and
lying
on
shingle
and
finding
shells
and
drifting
away
,
away
in
a
gondola
,
was
completed
by
the
pregnancy
inside
her
,
another
fullness
of
health
,
satisfying
and
stupefying
.
She
had
been
at
Venice
a
fortnight
,
and
she
was
to
stay
another
ten
days
or
a
fortnight
.
The
sunshine
blazed
over
any
count
of
time
,
and
the
fullness
of
physical
health
made
forgetfulness
complete
.
She
was
in
a
sort
of
stupor
of
well
-
being
.
