Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           Butgradually,asshecametothebottomofhim,touseherownterm,shefoundhewasliketherest,ababygrowntoman’sproportions:butababywithaqueertemperandafinemannerandpowerinitscontrol,andallsortsofoddknowledgethatshehadneverdreamedof,withwhichhecouldstillbullyher.

           Conniewassometimestemptedtosaytohim:

           ’ForGod’ssake,don’tsinksohorriblyintothehandsofthatwoman!’Butshefoundshedidn’tcareforhimenoughtosayit,inthelongrun.

           Itwasstilltheirhabittospendtheeveningtogether,tillteno’clock.Thentheywouldtalk,orreadtogether,orgooverhismanuscript.Butthethrillhadgoneoutofit.Shewasboredbyhismanuscripts.Butshestilldutifullytypedthemoutforhim.ButintimeMrsBoltonwoulddoeventhat.

           ForConniehadsuggestedtoMrsBoltonthatsheshouldlearntouseatypewriter.AndMrsBolton,alwaysready,hadbegunatonce,andpractisedassiduously.SonowCliffordwouldsometimesdictatealettertoher,andshewouldtakeitdownratherslowly,butcorrectly.Andhewasverypatient,spellingforherthedifficultwords,ortheoccasionalphrasesinFrench.Shewassothrilled,itwasalmostapleasuretoinstructher.

           NowConniewouldsometimespleadaheadacheasanexcuseforgoinguptoherroomafterdinner.

           ’PerhapsMrsBoltonwillplaypiquetwithyou,’shesaidtoClifford.

           ’Oh,Ishallbeperfectlyallright.Yougotoyourownroomandrest,darling.’

           Butnosoonerhadshegone,thanherangforMrsBolton,andaskedhertotakeahandatpiquetorbezique,orevenchess.