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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 36/388
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’
Does
it
matter
very
much
?
Do
these
things
really
affect
us
very
deeply
?
.
.
.
You
had
that
lover
in
Germany
.
.
.
what
is
it
now
?
Nothing
almost
.
It
seems
to
me
that
it
isn
’
t
these
little
acts
and
little
connexions
we
make
in
our
lives
that
matter
so
very
much
.
They
pass
away
,
and
where
are
they
?
Where
.
.
.
Where
are
the
snows
of
yesteryear
?
.
.
.
It
’
s
what
endures
through
one
’
s
life
that
matters
;
my
own
life
matters
to
me
,
in
its
long
continuance
and
development
.
But
what
do
the
occasional
connexions
matter
?
And
the
occasional
sexual
connexions
especially
!
If
people
don
’
t
exaggerate
them
ridiculously
,
they
pass
like
the
mating
of
birds
.
And
so
they
should
.
What
does
it
matter
?
It
’
s
the
life
-
long
companionship
that
matters
.
It
’
s
the
living
together
from
day
to
day
,
not
the
sleeping
together
once
or
twice
.
You
and
I
are
married
,
no
matter
what
happens
to
us
.
We
have
the
habit
of
each
other
.
And
habit
,
to
my
thinking
,
is
more
vital
than
any
occasional
excitement
.
The
long
,
slow
,
enduring
thing
.
.
.
that
’
s
what
we
live
by
.
.
.
not
the
occasional
spasm
of
any
sort
.
Little
by
little
,
living
together
,
two
people
fall
into
a
sort
of
unison
,
they
vibrate
so
intricately
to
one
another
.
That
’
s
the
real
secret
of
marriage
,
not
sex
;
at
least
not
the
simple
function
of
sex
.
You
and
I
are
interwoven
in
a
marriage
.
If
we
stick
to
that
we
ought
to
be
able
to
arrange
this
sex
thing
,
as
we
arrange
going
to
the
dentist
;
since
fate
has
given
us
a
checkmate
physically
there
.
’
Connie
sat
and
listened
in
a
sort
of
wonder
,
and
a
sort
of
fear
.
She
did
not
know
if
he
was
right
or
not
.
There
was
Michaelis
,
whom
she
loved
;
so
she
said
to
herself
.
But
her
love
was
somehow
only
an
excursion
from
her
marriage
with
Clifford
;
the
long
,
slow
habit
of
intimacy
,
formed
through
years
of
suffering
and
patience
.
Perhaps
the
human
soul
needs
excursions
,
and
must
not
be
denied
them
.
But
the
point
of
an
excursion
is
that
you
come
home
again
.
’
And
wouldn
’
t
you
mind
what
man
’
s
child
I
had
?
’
she
asked
.
’
Why
,
Connie
,
I
should
trust
your
natural
instinct
of
decency
and
selection
.
You
just
wouldn
’
t
let
the
wrong
sort
of
fellow
touch
you
.
’
She
thought
of
Michaelis
!
He
was
absolutely
Clifford
’
s
idea
of
the
wrong
sort
of
fellow
.
’
But
men
and
women
may
have
different
feelings
about
the
wrong
sort
of
fellow
,
’
she
said
.
’
No
,
’
he
replied
.
’
You
care
for
me
.
I
don
’
t
believe
you
would
ever
care
for
a
man
who
was
purely
antipathetic
to
me
.
Your
rhythm
wouldn
’
t
let
you
.
’
She
was
silent
.
Logic
might
be
unanswerable
because
it
was
so
absolutely
wrong
.
’
And
should
you
expect
me
to
tell
you
?
’
she
asked
,
glancing
up
at
him
almost
furtively
.
