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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 336/388
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The
woman
has
blown
off
an
amazing
quantity
of
poison
-
gas
.
She
has
aired
in
detail
all
those
incidents
of
her
conjugal
life
which
are
usually
buried
down
in
the
deepest
grave
of
matrimonial
silence
,
between
married
couples
.
Having
chosen
to
exhume
them
,
after
ten
years
of
burial
,
she
has
a
weird
array
.
I
hear
these
details
from
Linley
and
the
doctor
:
the
latter
being
amused
.
Of
course
there
is
really
nothing
in
it
.
Humanity
has
always
had
a
strange
avidity
for
unusual
sexual
postures
,
and
if
a
man
likes
to
use
his
wife
,
as
Benvenuto
Cellini
says
,
’
in
the
Italian
way
’
,
well
that
is
a
matter
of
taste
.
But
I
had
hardly
expected
our
game
-
keeper
to
be
up
to
so
many
tricks
.
No
doubt
Bertha
Coutts
herself
first
put
him
up
to
them
.
In
any
case
,
it
is
a
matter
of
their
own
personal
squalor
,
and
nothing
to
do
with
anybody
else
.
However
,
everybody
listens
:
as
I
do
myself
.
A
dozen
years
ago
,
common
decency
would
have
hushed
the
thing
.
But
common
decency
no
longer
exists
,
and
the
colliers
’
wives
are
all
up
in
arms
and
unabashed
in
voice
.
One
would
think
every
child
in
Tevershall
,
for
the
last
fifty
years
,
had
been
an
immaculate
conception
,
and
every
one
of
our
nonconformist
females
was
a
shining
Joan
of
Arc
.
That
our
estimable
game
-
keeper
should
have
about
him
a
touch
of
Rabelais
seems
to
make
him
more
monstrous
and
shocking
than
a
murderer
like
Crippen
.
Yet
these
people
in
Tevershall
are
a
loose
lot
,
if
one
is
to
believe
all
accounts
.
The
trouble
is
,
however
,
the
execrable
Bertha
Coutts
has
not
confined
herself
to
her
own
experiences
and
sufferings
.
She
has
discovered
,
at
the
top
of
her
voice
,
that
her
husband
has
been
’
keeping
’
women
down
at
the
cottage
,
and
has
made
a
few
random
shots
at
naming
the
women
.
This
has
brought
a
few
decent
names
trailing
through
the
mud
,
and
the
thing
has
gone
quite
considerably
too
far
.
An
injunction
has
been
taken
out
against
the
woman
.
I
have
had
to
interview
Mellors
about
the
business
,
as
it
was
impossible
to
keep
the
woman
away
from
the
wood
.
He
goes
about
as
usual
,
with
his
Miller
-
of
-
the
-
Dee
air
,
I
care
for
nobody
,
no
not
I
,
if
nobody
care
for
me
!
Nevertheless
,
I
shrewdly
suspect
he
feels
like
a
dog
with
a
tin
can
tied
to
its
tail
:
though
he
makes
a
very
good
show
of
pretending
the
tin
can
isn
’
t
there
.
But
I
heard
that
in
the
village
the
women
call
away
their
children
if
he
is
passing
,
as
if
he
were
the
Marquis
de
Sade
in
person
.
He
goes
on
with
a
certain
impudence
,
but
I
am
afraid
the
tin
can
is
firmly
tied
to
his
tail
,
and
that
inwardly
he
repeats
,
like
Don
Rodrigo
in
the
Spanish
ballad
:
’
Ah
,
now
it
bites
me
where
I
most
have
sinned
!
’
I
asked
him
if
he
thought
he
would
be
able
to
attend
to
his
duty
in
the
wood
,
and
he
said
he
did
not
think
he
had
neglected
it
.
I
told
him
it
was
a
nuisance
to
have
the
woman
trespassing
:
to
which
he
replied
that
he
had
no
power
to
arrest
her
.
Then
I
hinted
at
the
scandal
and
its
unpleasant
course
.
’
Ay
,
’
he
said
.
’
folks
should
do
their
own
fuckin
’
,
then
they
wouldn
’
t
want
to
listen
to
a
lot
of
clatfart
about
another
man
’
s
.
’
He
said
it
with
some
bitterness
,
and
no
doubt
it
contains
the
real
germ
of
truth
.
The
mode
of
putting
it
,
however
,
is
neither
delicate
nor
respectful
.
I
hinted
as
much
,
and
then
I
heard
the
tin
can
rattle
again
.
’
It
’
s
not
for
a
man
the
shape
you
’
re
in
,
Sir
Clifford
,
to
twit
me
for
havin
’
a
cod
atween
my
legs
.
’
These
things
,
said
indiscriminately
to
all
and
sundry
,
of
course
do
not
help
him
at
all
,
and
the
rector
,
and
Finley
,
and
Burroughs
all
think
it
would
be
as
well
if
the
man
left
the
place
.
I
asked
him
if
it
was
true
that
he
entertained
ladies
down
at
the
cottage
,
and
all
he
said
was
:
’
Why
,
what
’
s
that
to
you
,
Sir
Clifford
?
’
I
told
him
I
intended
to
have
decency
observed
on
my
estate
,
to
which
he
replied
:
’
Then
you
mun
button
the
mouths
o
’
a
’
th
’
women
.
