-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
-
- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
-
- Стр. 65/388
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Again
Connie
looked
at
him
.
His
eyes
were
smiling
again
,
a
little
mockingly
,
but
warm
and
blue
,
and
somehow
kind
.
She
wondered
at
him
.
He
was
in
trousers
and
flannel
shirt
and
a
grey
tie
,
his
hair
soft
and
damp
,
his
face
rather
pale
and
worn
-
looking
.
When
the
eyes
ceased
to
laugh
they
looked
as
if
they
had
suffered
a
great
deal
,
still
without
losing
their
warmth
.
But
a
pallor
of
isolation
came
over
him
,
she
was
not
really
there
for
him
.
She
wanted
to
say
so
many
things
,
and
she
said
nothing
.
Only
she
looked
up
at
him
again
,
and
remarked
:
’
I
hope
I
didn
’
t
disturb
you
?
’
The
faint
smile
of
mockery
narrowed
his
eyes
.
’
Only
combing
my
hair
,
if
you
don
’
t
mind
.
I
’
m
sorry
I
hadn
’
t
a
coat
on
,
but
then
I
had
no
idea
who
was
knocking
.
Nobody
knocks
here
,
and
the
unexpected
sounds
ominous
.
’
He
went
in
front
of
her
down
the
garden
path
to
hold
the
gate
.
In
his
shirt
,
without
the
clumsy
velveteen
coat
,
she
saw
again
how
slender
he
was
,
thin
,
stooping
a
little
.
Yet
,
as
she
passed
him
,
there
was
something
young
and
bright
in
his
fair
hair
,
and
his
quick
eyes
.
He
would
be
a
man
about
thirty
-
seven
or
eight
.
She
plodded
on
into
the
wood
,
knowing
he
was
looking
after
her
;
he
upset
her
so
much
,
in
spite
of
herself
.
And
he
,
as
he
went
indoors
,
was
thinking
:
’
She
’
s
nice
,
she
’
s
real
!
She
’
s
nicer
than
she
knows
.
’
She
wondered
very
much
about
him
;
he
seemed
so
unlike
a
game
-
keeper
,
so
unlike
a
working
-
man
anyhow
;
although
he
had
something
in
common
with
the
local
people
.
But
also
something
very
uncommon
.
