Любовник леди Чаттерлей
Chapter 13
’Ifonlytherearen’tmorestrikes!’
’Whatwouldbetheuseoftheirstrikingagain!Merelyruintheindustry,what’sleftofit:andsurelytheowlsarebeginningtoseeit!’
’Perhapstheydon’tmindruiningtheindustry,’saidConnie.
’Ah,don’ttalklikeawoman!Theindustryfillstheirbellies,evenifitcan’tkeeptheirpocketsquitesoflush,’hesaid,usingturnsofspeechthatoddlyhadatwangofMrsBolton.
’Butdidn’tyousaytheotherdaythatyouwereaconservative-anarchist,’sheaskedinnocently.
’AnddidyouunderstandwhatImeant?’heretorted.’AllImeantis,peoplecanbewhattheylikeandfeelwhattheylikeanddowhattheylike,strictlyprivately,solongastheykeeptheformoflifeintact,andtheapparatus.’
Conniewalkedoninsilenceafewpaces.Thenshesaid,obstinately:
’Itsoundslikesayinganeggmaygoasaddledasitlikes,solongasitkeepsitsshellonwhole.Butaddledeggsdobreakofthemselves.’
’Idon’tthinkpeopleareeggs,’hesaid.’Notevenangels’eggs,mydearlittleevangelist.’
Hewasinratherhighfeatherthisbrightmorning.Thelarksweretrillingawayoverthepark,thedistantpitinthehollowwasfumingsilentsteam.Itwasalmostlikeolddays,beforethewar.Conniedidn’treallywanttoargue.ButthenshedidnotreallywanttogotothewoodwithCliffordeither.Soshewalkedbesidehischairinacertainobstinacyofspirit.
’No,’hesaid.’Therewillbenomorestrikes,ifthethingisproperlymanaged.’
’Whynot?’
’Becausestrikeswillbemadeasgoodasimpossible.
