Любовник леди Чаттерлей
Chapter 7
PerhapsI’mbored,’saidConniealittlepathetically.
ThelightofbattleglowedinHilda’sface;shewasawoman,softandstillassheseemed,oftheoldamazonsort,notmadetofitwithmen.
’Thiswretchedplace!’shesaidsoftly,lookingatpoor,old,lumberingWragbywithrealhate.Shelookedsoftandwarmherself,asaripepear,andshewasanamazonoftherealoldbreed.
ShewentquietlyintoClifford.Hethoughthowhandsomeshelooked,butalsoheshrankfromher.Hiswife’sfamilydidnothavehissortofmanners,orhissortofetiquette.Heconsideredthemratheroutsiders,butoncetheygotinsidetheymadehimjumpthroughthehoop.
Hesatsquareandwell-groomedinhischair,hishairsleekandblond,andhisfacefresh,hisblueeyespale,andalittleprominent,hisexpressioninscrutable,butwell-bred.Hildathoughtitsulkyandstupid,andhewaited.Hehadanairofaplomb,butHildadidn’tcarewhathehadanairof;shewasupinarms,andifhe’dbeenPopeorEmperoritwouldhavebeenjustthesame.
’Connie’slookingawfullyunwell,’shesaidinhersoftvoice,fixinghimwithherbeautiful,gloweringgreyeyes.Shelookedsomaidenly,sodidConnie;buthewellknewthetoneofScottishobstinacyunderneath.
’She’salittlethinner,’hesaid.
’Haven’tyoudoneanythingaboutit?’
’Doyouthinkitnecessary?’heasked,withhissuavestEnglishstiffness,forthetwothingsoftengotogether.
