Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           ’You’vegotfourkindsofhair,’shesaidtohim.’Onyourchestit’snearlyblack,andyourhairisn’tdarkonyourhead:butyourmoustacheishardanddarkred,andyourhairhere,yourlove-hair,islikealittlebrushofbrightred-goldmistletoe.It’stheloveliestofall!’

           Helookeddownandsawthemilkybitsofforget-me-notsinthehaironhisgroin.

           ’Ay!That’swheretoputforget-me-nots,intheman-hair,orthemaiden-hair.Butdon’tyoucareaboutthefuture?’

           Shelookedupathim.

           ’Oh,Ido,terribly!’shesaid.

           ’BecausewhenIfeelthehumanworldisdoomed,hasdoomeditselfbyitsownmingybeastliness,thenIfeeltheColoniesaren’tfarenough.Themoonwouldn’tbefarenough,becauseeventhereyoucouldlookbackandseetheearth,dirty,beastly,unsavouryamongallthestars:madefoulbymen.ThenIfeelI’veswallowedgall,andit’seatingmyinsideout,andnowhere’sfarenoughawaytogetaway.ButwhenIgetaturn,Iforgetitallagain.Thoughit’sashame,what’sbeendonetopeopletheselasthundredyears:menturnedintonothingbutlabour-insects,andalltheirmanhoodtakenaway,andalltheirreallife.I’dwipethemachinesoffthefaceoftheearthagain,andendtheindustrialepochabsolutely,likeablackmistake.ButsinceIcan’t,an’nobodycan,I’dbetterholdmypeace,an’tryan’livemyownlife:ifI’vegotonetolive,whichIratherdoubt.’

           Thethunderhadceasedoutside,buttherainwhichhadabated,suddenlycamestrikingdown,withalastblenchoflightningandmutterofdepartingstorm.Conniewasuneasy.