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- Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс
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- Любовник леди Чаттерлей
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- Стр. 94/388
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’
Perhaps
some
condition
of
the
atmosphere
lowers
the
vitality
of
the
people
?
’
he
said
.
’
No
,
it
’
s
man
that
poisons
the
universe
,
’
she
asserted
.
’
Fouls
his
own
nest
,
’
remarked
Clifford
.
The
chair
puffed
on
.
In
the
hazel
copse
catkins
were
hanging
pale
gold
,
and
in
sunny
places
the
wood
-
anemones
were
wide
open
,
as
if
exclaiming
with
the
joy
of
life
,
just
as
good
as
in
past
days
,
when
people
could
exclaim
along
with
them
.
They
had
a
faint
scent
of
apple
-
blossom
.
Connie
gathered
a
few
for
Clifford
.
He
took
them
and
looked
at
them
curiously
.
’
Thou
still
unravished
bride
of
quietness
,
’
he
quoted
.
’
It
seems
to
fit
flowers
so
much
better
than
Greek
vases
.
’
’
Ravished
is
such
a
horrid
word
!
’
she
said
.
’
It
’
s
only
people
who
ravish
things
.
’
’
Oh
,
I
don
’
t
know
.
.
.
snails
and
things
,
’
he
said
.
’
Even
snails
only
eat
them
,
and
bees
don
’
t
ravish
.
’
She
was
angry
with
him
,
turning
everything
into
words
.
Violets
were
Juno
’
s
eyelids
,
and
windflowers
were
on
ravished
brides
.
