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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 343/388
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I
won
’
t
come
round
to
your
hotel
,
but
I
’
ll
wait
for
you
outside
the
Golden
Cock
in
Adam
Street
at
seven
.
There
he
stood
,
tall
and
slender
,
and
so
different
,
in
a
formal
suit
of
thin
dark
cloth
.
He
had
a
natural
distinction
,
but
he
had
not
the
cut
-
to
-
pattern
look
of
her
class
.
Yet
,
she
saw
at
once
,
he
could
go
anywhere
.
He
had
a
native
breeding
which
was
really
much
nicer
than
the
cut
-
to
-
pattern
class
thing
.
’
Ah
,
there
you
are
!
How
well
you
look
!
’
’
Yes
!
But
not
you
.
’
She
looked
in
his
face
anxiously
.
It
was
thin
,
and
the
cheekbones
showed
.
But
his
eyes
smiled
at
her
,
and
she
felt
at
home
with
him
.
There
it
was
:
suddenly
,
the
tension
of
keeping
up
her
appearances
fell
from
her
.
Something
flowed
out
of
him
physically
,
that
made
her
feel
inwardly
at
ease
and
happy
,
at
home
.
With
a
woman
’
s
now
alert
instinct
for
happiness
,
she
registered
it
at
once
.
’
I
’
m
happy
when
he
’
s
there
!
’
Not
all
the
sunshine
of
Venice
had
given
her
this
inward
expansion
and
warmth
.
’
Was
it
horrid
for
you
?
’
she
asked
as
she
sat
opposite
him
at
table
.
He
was
too
thin
;
she
saw
it
now
.
His
hand
lay
as
she
knew
it
,
with
the
curious
loose
forgottenness
of
a
sleeping
animal
.
She
wanted
so
much
to
take
it
and
kiss
it
.
But
she
did
not
quite
dare
.
’
People
are
always
horrid
,
’
he
said
.
’
And
did
you
mind
very
much
?
’
’
I
minded
,
as
I
always
shall
mind
.
And
I
knew
I
was
a
fool
to
mind
.
’
’
Did
you
feel
like
a
dog
with
a
tin
can
tied
to
its
tail
?
Clifford
said
you
felt
like
that
.
’
