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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 41/388
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But
she
was
.
A
strange
,
weary
yearning
,
a
dissatisfaction
had
started
in
her
.
Clifford
did
not
notice
:
those
were
not
things
he
was
aware
of
.
But
the
stranger
knew
.
To
Connie
,
everything
in
her
world
and
life
seemed
worn
out
,
and
her
dissatisfaction
was
older
than
the
hills
.
They
came
to
the
house
,
and
around
to
the
back
,
where
there
were
no
steps
.
Clifford
managed
to
swing
himself
over
on
to
the
low
,
wheeled
house
-
chair
;
he
was
very
strong
and
agile
with
his
arms
.
Then
Connie
lifted
the
burden
of
his
dead
legs
after
him
.
The
keeper
,
waiting
at
attention
to
be
dismissed
,
watched
everything
narrowly
,
missing
nothing
.
He
went
pale
,
with
a
sort
of
fear
,
when
he
saw
Connie
lifting
the
inert
legs
of
the
man
in
her
arms
,
into
the
other
chair
,
Clifford
pivoting
round
as
she
did
so
.
He
was
frightened
.
’
Thanks
,
then
,
for
the
help
,
Mellors
,
’
said
Clifford
casually
,
as
he
began
to
wheel
down
the
passage
to
the
servants
’
quarters
.
’
Nothing
else
,
Sir
?
’
came
the
neutral
voice
,
like
one
in
a
dream
.
’
Nothing
,
good
morning
!
’
’
Good
morning
,
Sir
.
’
’
Good
morning
!
it
was
kind
of
you
to
push
the
chair
up
that
hill
.
.
.
I
hope
it
wasn
’
t
heavy
for
you
,
’
said
Connie
,
looking
back
at
the
keeper
outside
the
door
.
His
eyes
came
to
hers
in
an
instant
,
as
if
wakened
up
.
He
was
aware
of
her
.
