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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 39/388
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’
And
do
you
like
it
?
’
She
looked
him
in
the
eyes
.
His
eyes
narrowed
a
little
,
with
irony
,
perhaps
with
impudence
.
’
Why
,
yes
,
thank
you
,
your
Ladyship
!
I
was
reared
here
.
.
.
’
He
gave
another
slight
bow
,
turned
,
put
his
hat
on
,
and
strode
to
take
hold
of
the
chair
.
His
voice
on
the
last
words
had
fallen
into
the
heavy
broad
drag
of
the
dialect
.
.
.
perhaps
also
in
mockery
,
because
there
had
been
no
trace
of
dialect
before
.
He
might
almost
be
a
gentleman
.
Anyhow
,
he
was
a
curious
,
quick
,
separate
fellow
,
alone
,
but
sure
of
himself
.
Clifford
started
the
little
engine
,
the
man
carefully
turned
the
chair
,
and
set
it
nose
-
forwards
to
the
incline
that
curved
gently
to
the
dark
hazel
thicket
.
’
Is
that
all
then
,
Sir
Clifford
?
’
asked
the
man
.
’
No
,
you
’
d
better
come
along
in
case
she
sticks
.
The
engine
isn
’
t
really
strong
enough
for
the
uphill
work
.
’
The
man
glanced
round
for
his
dog
.
.
.
a
thoughtful
glance
.
The
spaniel
looked
at
him
and
faintly
moved
its
tail
.
A
little
smile
,
mocking
or
teasing
her
,
yet
gentle
,
came
into
his
eyes
for
a
moment
,
then
faded
away
,
and
his
face
was
expressionless
.
They
went
fairly
quickly
down
the
slope
,
the
man
with
his
hand
on
the
rail
of
the
chair
,
steadying
it
.
He
looked
like
a
free
soldier
rather
than
a
servant
.
And
something
about
him
reminded
Connie
of
Tommy
Dukes
.
When
they
came
to
the
hazel
grove
,
Connie
suddenly
ran
forward
,
and
opened
the
gate
into
the
park
.
As
she
stood
holding
it
,
the
two
men
looked
at
her
in
passing
,
Clifford
critically
,
the
other
man
with
a
curious
,
cool
wonder
;
impersonally
wanting
to
see
what
she
looked
like
.
And
she
saw
in
his
blue
,
impersonal
eyes
a
look
of
suffering
and
detachment
,
yet
a
certain
warmth
.
But
why
was
he
so
aloof
,
apart
?
Clifford
stopped
the
chair
,
once
through
the
gate
,
and
the
man
came
quickly
,
courteously
,
to
close
it
.
