Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           Hewentoutanddownthelittlepathintheoppositedirectionfromtheriding.Conniewatchedhisthin,whitefigure,anditlookedtoherlikeaghost,anapparitionmovingawayfromher.

           Whenshecouldseeitnomore,herheartsank.Shestoodinthedoorofthehut,withablanketroundher,lookingintothedrenched,motionlesssilence.

           Buthewascomingback,trottingstrangely,andcarryingflowers.Shewasalittleafraidofhim,asifhewerenotquitehuman.Andwhenhecamenear,hiseyeslookedintohers,butshecouldnotunderstandthemeaning.

           Hehadbroughtcolumbinesandcampions,andnew-mownhay,andoak-tuftsandhoneysuckleinsmallbud.Hefastenedfluffyyoungoak-spraysroundherbreasts,stickingintuftsofbluebellsandcampion:andinhernavelhepoisedapinkcampionflower,andinhermaiden-hairwereforget-me-notsandwoodruff.

           ’That’syouinallyourglory!’hesaid.’LadyJane,atherweddingwithJohnThomas.’

           Andhestuckflowersinthehairofhisownbody,andwoundabitofcreeping-jennyroundhispenis,andstuckasinglebellofahyacinthinhisnavel.Shewatchedhimwithamusement,hisoddintentness.Andshepushedacampionflowerinhismoustache,whereitstuck,danglingunderhisnose.

           ’ThisisJohnThomasmarryin’LadyJane,’hesaid.’An’wemunletConstancean’Olivergotheirways.Maybe--’

           Hespreadouthishandwithagesture,andthenhesneezed,sneezingawaytheflowersfromhisnoseandhisnavel.Hesneezedagain.

           ’Maybewhat?’shesaid,waitingforhimtogoon.

           Helookedatheralittlebewildered.

           ’Eh?’hesaid.