-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
-
- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
-
- Стр. 40/388
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
’
Why
did
you
run
to
open
?
’
asked
Clifford
in
his
quiet
,
calm
voice
,
that
showed
he
was
displeased
.
’
Mellors
would
have
done
it
.
’
’
I
thought
you
would
go
straight
ahead
,
’
said
Connie
.
’
And
leave
you
to
run
after
us
?
’
said
Clifford
.
’
Oh
,
well
,
I
like
to
run
sometimes
!
’
Mellors
took
the
chair
again
,
looking
perfectly
unheeding
,
yet
Connie
felt
he
noted
everything
.
As
he
pushed
the
chair
up
the
steepish
rise
of
the
knoll
in
the
park
,
he
breathed
rather
quickly
,
through
parted
lips
.
He
was
rather
frail
really
.
Curiously
full
of
vitality
,
but
a
little
frail
and
quenched
.
Her
woman
’
s
instinct
sensed
it
.
Connie
fell
back
,
let
the
chair
go
on
.
The
day
had
greyed
over
;
the
small
blue
sky
that
had
poised
low
on
its
circular
rims
of
haze
was
closed
in
again
,
the
lid
was
down
,
there
was
a
raw
coldness
.
It
was
going
to
snow
.
All
grey
,
all
grey
!
the
world
looked
worn
out
.
The
chair
waited
at
the
top
of
the
pink
path
.
Clifford
looked
round
for
Connie
.
’
Not
tired
,
are
you
?
’
he
said
.
’
Oh
,
no
!
’
she
said
.
