Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           ’Hespokeunwittingly,regrettinghehadbegun.

           ’Haveyoucomeofflikethatwithotherwomen?’

           Helookedatheramused.

           ’Idon’tknow,’hesaid,’Idon’tknow.’

           Andsheknewhewouldnevertellheranythinghedidn’twanttotellher.Shewatchedhisface,andthepassionforhimmovedinherbowels.Sheresisteditasfarasshecould,foritwasthelossofherselftoherself.

           Heputonhiswaistcoatandhiscoat,andpushedawaythroughtothepathagain.

           Thelastlevelraysofthesuntouchedthewood.’Iwon’tcomewithyou,’hesaid;’betternot.’

           Shelookedathimwistfullybeforesheturned.Hisdogwaswaitingsoanxiouslyforhimtogo,andheseemedtohavenothingwhatevertosay.Nothingleft.

           Conniewentslowlyhome,realizingthedepthoftheotherthinginher.Anotherselfwasaliveinher,burningmoltenandsoftinherwombandbowels,andwiththisselfsheadoredhim.Sheadoredhimtillherkneeswereweakasshewalked.Inherwombandbowelsshewasflowingandalivenowandvulnerable,andhelplessinadorationofhimasthemostnaivewoman.Itfeelslikeachild,shesaidtoherselfitfeelslikeachildinme.Andsoitdid,asifherwomb,thathadalwaysbeenshut,hadopenedandfilledwithnewlife,almostaburden,yetlovely.

           ’IfIhadachild!’shethoughttoherself;’ifIhadhiminsidemeasachild!’--andherlimbsturnedmoltenatthethought,andsherealizedtheimmensedifferencebetweenhavingachildtooneselfandhavingachildtoamanwhomone’sbowelsyearnedtowards.