Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           Shewasverygoodandcompetent,andshesoonknewhowtohavehiminherpower.Hewasn’tsoverydifferentfromthecolliersafterall,whenyoulatheredhischin,andsoftlyrubbedthebristles.Thestand-offishnessandthelackoffranknessdidn’tbotherher;shewashavinganewexperience.

           Clifford,however,insidehimself,neverquiteforgaveConnieforgivingupherpersonalcareofhimtoastrangehiredwoman.Itkilled,hesaidtohimself,therealfloweroftheintimacybetweenhimandher.ButConniedidn’tmindthat.Thefinefloweroftheirintimacywastoherratherlikeanorchid,abulbstuckparasiticonhertreeoflife,andproducing,tohereyes,arathershabbyflower.

           Nowshehadmoretimetoherselfshecouldsoftlyplaythepiano,upinherroom,andsing:’Touchnotthenettle,forthebondsofloveareilltoloose.’Shehadnotrealizedtilllatelyhowilltoloosetheywere,thesebondsoflove.ButthankHeavenshehadloosenedthem!Shewassogladtobealone,notalwaystohavetotalktohim.Whenhewasalonehetapped-tapped-tappedonatypewriter,toinfinity.Butwhenhewasnot’working’,andshewasthere,hetalked,alwaystalked;infinitesmallanalysisofpeopleandmotives,andresults,charactersandpersonalities,tillnowshehadhadenough.Foryearsshehadlovedit,untilshehadenough,andthensuddenlyitwastoomuch.Shewasthankfultobealone.

           Itwasasifthousandsandthousandsoflittlerootsandthreadsofconsciousnessinhimandherhadgrowntogetherintoatangledmass,tilltheycouldcrowdnomore,andtheplantwasdying