Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           ’

           ’Givingmetheslip,like?’hesaid,withafaintironicsmile.’No!No.Notthat.Only--’

           ’Why,whatelse?’hesaid.Andhesteppeduptoherandputhisarmsaroundher.Shefeltthefrontofhisbodyterriblyneartoher,andalive.

           ’Oh,notnow,notnow,’shecried,tryingtopushhimaway.

           ’Whynot?It’sonlysixo’clock.You’vegothalfanhour.Nay!Nay!Iwantyou.’

           Heheldherfastandshefelthisurgency.Heroldinstinctwastofightforherfreedom.Butsomethingelseinherwasstrangeandinertandheavy.Hisbodywasurgentagainsther,andshehadn’ttheheartanymoretofight.

           Helookedaround.

           ’Come--comehere!Throughhere,’hesaid,lookingpenetratinglyintothedensefir-trees,thatwereyoungandnotmorethanhalf-grown.

           Helookedbackather.Shesawhiseyes,tenseandbrilliant,fierce,notloving.Butherwillhadlefther.Astrangeweightwasonherlimbs.Shewasgivingway.Shewasgivingup.

           Heledherthroughthewallofpricklytrees,thatweredifficulttocomethrough,toaplacewherewasalittlespaceandapileofdeadboughs.Hethrewoneortwodryonesdown,puthiscoatandwaistcoatoverthem,andshehadtoliedownthereundertheboughsofthetree,likeananimal,whilehewaited,standingthereinhisshirtandbreeches,watchingherwithhauntedeyes.Butstillhewasprovident--hemadeherlieproperly,properly.Yethebrokethebandofherunderclothes,forshedidnothelphim,onlylayinert.

           Hetoohadbaredthefrontpartofhisbodyandshefelthisnakedfleshagainstherashecameintoher.