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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 90/388
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She
went
indoors
to
Clifford
’
s
study
,
where
the
old
brass
kettle
was
simmering
on
the
tray
.
’
Am
I
late
,
Clifford
?
’
she
said
,
putting
down
the
few
flowers
and
taking
up
the
tea
-
caddy
,
as
she
stood
before
the
tray
in
her
hat
and
scarf
.
’
I
’
m
sorry
!
Why
didn
’
t
you
let
Mrs
Bolton
make
the
tea
?
’
’
I
didn
’
t
think
of
it
,
’
he
said
ironically
.
’
I
don
’
t
quite
see
her
presiding
at
the
tea
-
table
.
’
’
Oh
,
there
’
s
nothing
sacrosanct
about
a
silver
tea
-
pot
,
’
said
Connie
.
He
glanced
up
at
her
curiously
.
’
What
did
you
do
all
afternoon
?
’
he
said
.
’
Walked
and
sat
in
a
sheltered
place
.
Do
you
know
there
are
still
berries
on
the
big
holly
-
tree
?
’
She
took
off
her
scarf
,
but
not
her
hat
,
and
sat
down
to
make
tea
.
The
toast
would
certainly
be
leathery
.
She
put
the
tea
-
cosy
over
the
tea
-
pot
,
and
rose
to
get
a
little
glass
for
her
violets
.
The
poor
flowers
hung
over
,
limp
on
their
stalks
.
’
They
’
ll
revive
again
!
’
she
said
,
putting
them
before
him
in
their
glass
for
him
to
smell
.
