-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
-
- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
-
- Стр. 61/388
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Sometimes
she
wept
bitterly
,
but
even
as
she
wept
she
was
saying
to
herself
:
Silly
fool
,
wetting
hankies
!
As
if
that
would
get
you
anywhere
!
Since
Michaelis
,
she
had
made
up
her
mind
she
wanted
nothing
.
That
seemed
the
simplest
solution
of
the
otherwise
insoluble
.
She
wanted
nothing
more
than
what
she
’
d
got
;
only
she
wanted
to
get
ahead
with
what
she
’
d
got
:
Clifford
,
the
stories
,
Wragby
,
the
Lady
-
Chatterley
business
,
money
and
fame
,
such
as
it
was
.
.
.
she
wanted
to
go
ahead
with
it
all
.
Love
,
sex
,
all
that
sort
of
stuff
,
just
water
-
ices
!
Lick
it
up
and
forget
it
.
If
you
don
’
t
hang
on
to
it
in
your
mind
,
it
’
s
nothing
.
Sex
especially
.
.
.
nothing
!
Make
up
your
mind
to
it
,
and
you
’
ve
solved
the
problem
.
Sex
and
a
cocktail
:
they
both
lasted
about
as
long
,
had
the
same
effect
,
and
amounted
to
about
the
same
thing
.
But
a
child
,
a
baby
!
That
was
still
one
of
the
sensations
.
She
would
venture
very
gingerly
on
that
experiment
.
There
was
the
man
to
consider
,
and
it
was
curious
,
there
wasn
’
t
a
man
in
the
world
whose
children
you
wanted
.
Mick
’
s
children
!
Repulsive
thought
!
As
lief
have
a
child
to
a
rabbit
!
Tommy
Dukes
?
he
was
very
nice
,
but
somehow
you
couldn
’
t
associate
him
with
a
baby
,
another
generation
.
He
ended
in
himself
.
And
out
of
all
the
rest
of
Clifford
’
s
pretty
wide
acquaintance
,
there
was
not
a
man
who
did
not
rouse
her
contempt
,
when
she
thought
of
having
a
child
by
him
.
There
were
several
who
would
have
been
quite
possible
as
lover
,
even
Mick
.
But
to
let
them
breed
a
child
on
you
!
Ugh
!
Humiliation
and
abomination
.
So
that
was
that
!
Nevertheless
,
Connie
had
the
child
at
the
back
of
her
mind
.
Wait
!
wait
!
She
would
sift
the
generations
of
men
through
her
sieve
,
and
see
if
she
couldn
’
t
find
one
who
would
do
.
-
-
’
Go
ye
into
the
streets
and
by
ways
of
Jerusalem
,
and
see
if
you
can
find
a
man
.
’
It
had
been
impossible
to
find
a
man
in
the
Jerusalem
of
the
prophet
,
though
there
were
thousands
of
male
humans
.
But
a
man
!
c
’
est
une
autre
chose
!
She
had
an
idea
that
he
would
have
to
be
a
foreigner
:
not
an
Englishman
,
still
less
an
Irishman
.
A
real
foreigner
.
But
wait
!
wait
!
Next
winter
she
would
get
Clifford
to
London
;
the
following
winter
she
would
get
him
abroad
to
the
South
of
France
,
Italy
.
Wait
!
She
was
in
no
hurry
about
the
child
.
That
was
her
own
private
affair
,
and
the
one
point
on
which
,
in
her
own
queer
,
female
way
,
she
was
serious
to
the
bottom
of
her
soul
.
She
was
not
going
to
risk
any
chance
comer
,
not
she
!
One
might
take
a
lover
almost
at
any
moment
,
but
a
man
who
should
beget
a
child
on
one
.
.
.
wait
!
wait
!
it
’
s
a
very
different
matter
.
-
-
’
Go
ye
into
the
streets
and
byways
of
Jerusalem
.
.
.
’
It
was
not
a
question
of
love
;
it
was
a
question
of
a
man
.
Why
,
one
might
even
rather
hate
him
,
personally
.
Yet
if
he
was
the
man
,
what
would
one
’
s
personal
hate
matter
?
This
business
concerned
another
part
of
oneself
.
It
had
rained
as
usual
,
and
the
paths
were
too
sodden
for
Clifford
’
s
chair
,
but
Connie
would
go
out
.
She
went
out
alone
every
day
now
,
mostly
in
the
wood
,
where
she
was
really
alone
.
She
saw
nobody
there
.
This
day
,
however
,
Clifford
wanted
to
send
a
message
to
the
keeper
,
and
as
the
boy
was
laid
up
with
influenza
,
somebody
always
seemed
to
have
influenza
at
Wragby
,
Connie
said
she
would
call
at
the
cottage
.
