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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 75/388
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He
sat
square
and
well
-
groomed
in
his
chair
,
his
hair
sleek
and
blond
,
and
his
face
fresh
,
his
blue
eyes
pale
,
and
a
little
prominent
,
his
expression
inscrutable
,
but
well
-
bred
.
Hilda
thought
it
sulky
and
stupid
,
and
he
waited
.
He
had
an
air
of
aplomb
,
but
Hilda
didn
’
t
care
what
he
had
an
air
of
;
she
was
up
in
arms
,
and
if
he
’
d
been
Pope
or
Emperor
it
would
have
been
just
the
same
.
’
Connie
’
s
looking
awfully
unwell
,
’
she
said
in
her
soft
voice
,
fixing
him
with
her
beautiful
,
glowering
grey
eyes
.
She
looked
so
maidenly
,
so
did
Connie
;
but
he
well
knew
the
tone
of
Scottish
obstinacy
underneath
.
’
She
’
s
a
little
thinner
,
’
he
said
.
’
Haven
’
t
you
done
anything
about
it
?
’
’
Do
you
think
it
necessary
?
’
he
asked
,
with
his
suavest
English
stiffness
,
for
the
two
things
often
go
together
.
Hilda
only
glowered
at
him
without
replying
;
repartee
was
not
her
forte
,
nor
Connie
’
s
;
so
she
glowered
,
and
he
was
much
more
uncomfortable
than
if
she
had
said
things
.
’
I
’
ll
take
her
to
a
doctor
,
’
said
Hilda
at
length
.
’
Can
you
suggest
a
good
one
round
here
?
’
’
I
’
m
afraid
I
can
’
t
.
’
’
Then
I
’
ll
take
her
to
London
,
where
we
have
a
doctor
we
trust
.
’
Though
boiling
with
rage
,
Clifford
said
nothing
.
