Любовник леди Чаттерлей
Chapter 8
’
’Ahcannatellyer,m’Lady!Ahknownob’dyasma’eskeysround’ere.’
Conniesuddenlyflushedwithanger.
’Verywell!’shesaid.’I’llseetoit.’
’Allright,yourLadyship.’
Theireyesmet.Hishadacold,uglylookofdislikeandcontempt,andindifferencetowhatwouldhappen.Herswerehotwithrebuff.
Butherheartsank,shesawhowutterlyhedislikedher,whenshewentagainsthim.Andshesawhiminasortofdesperation.
’Goodafternoon!’
’Afternoon,myLady!’Hesalutedandturnedabruptlyaway.Shehadwakenedthesleepingdogsofoldvoraciousangerinhim,angeragainsttheself-willedfemale.Andhewaspowerless,powerless.Heknewit!
Andshewasangryagainsttheself-willedmale.Aservanttoo!Shewalkedsullenlyhome.
ShefoundMrsBoltonunderthegreatbeech-treeontheknoll,lookingforher.
’Ijustwonderedifyou’dbecoming,myLady,’thewomansaidbrightly.
’AmIlate?’askedConnie.
’OhonlySirCliffordwaswaitingforhistea.’
’Whydidn’tyoumakeitthen?’
’Oh,Idon’tthinkit’shardlymyplace.Idon’tthinkSirCliffordwouldlikeitatall,myLady.’
’Idon’tseewhynot,’saidConnie.
ShewentindoorstoClifford’sstudy,wheretheoldbrasskettlewassimmeringonthetray.
’AmIlate,Clifford?’shesaid,puttingdownthefewflowersandtakingupthetea-caddy,asshestoodbeforethetrayinherhatandscarf.’I’msorry!Whydidn’tyouletMrsBoltonmakethetea?’
’Ididn’tthinkofit,’hesaidironically.’Idon’tquiteseeherpresidingatthetea-table.
