Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           Hischildwasinallherveins,likeatwilight.

           ’Forhandsshehathnone,noreyes,norfeet,norgoldenTreasureofhair...’

           Shewaslikeaforest,likethedarkinterlacingoftheoakwood,humminginaudiblywithmyriadunfoldingbuds.Meanwhilethebirdsofdesirewereasleepinthevastinterlacedintricacyofherbody.

           ButClifford’svoicewenton,clappingandgurglingwithunusualsounds.Howextraordinaryitwas!Howextraordinaryhewas,bentthereoverthebook,queerandrapaciousandcivilized,withbroadshouldersandnoreallegs!Whatastrangecreature,withthesharp,coldinflexiblewillofsomebird,andnowarmth,nowarmthatall!Oneofthosecreaturesoftheafterwards,thathavenosoul,butanextra-alertwill,coldwill.Sheshudderedalittle,afraidofhim.Butthen,thesoftwarmflameoflifewasstrongerthanhe,andtherealthingswerehiddenfromhim.

           Thereadingfinished.Shewasstartled.Shelookedup,andwasmorestartledstilltoseeCliffordwatchingherwithpale,uncannyeyes,likehate.

           ’Thankyousomuch!YoudoreadRacinebeautifully!’shesaidsoftly.

           ’Almostasbeautifullyasyoulistentohim,’hesaidcruelly.’Whatareyoumaking?’heasked.

           ’I’mmakingachild’sdress,forMrsFlint’sbaby.’

           Heturnedaway.Achild!Achild!Thatwasallherobsession.

           ’Afterall,’hesaidinadeclamatoryvoice,’onegetsallonewantsoutofRacine.Emotionsthatareorderedandgivenshapearemoreimportantthandisorderlyemotions.

           Shewatchedhimwithwide,vague,veiledeyes.’Yes,I’msuretheyare,’shesaid.