Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           ’Why?’shesaid,alittlebreathless,asshelookedathim.’Youare,aren’tyou?’

           Shefeltaterribleappealcomingtoherfromhim,thatmadeheralmostloseherbalance.

           ’Oh,you’requiteright!’hesaid,turninghisheadaway,andlookingsideways,downwards,withthatstrangeimmobilityofanoldracethatishardlyhereinourpresentday.ItwasthatthatreallymadeConnieloseherpowertoseehimdetachedfromherself.

           Helookedupatherwiththefullglancethatsaweverything,registeredeverything.Atthesametime,theinfantcryinginthenightwascryingoutofhisbreasttoher,inawaythataffectedherverywomb.

           ’It’sawfullyniceofyoutothinkofme,’hesaidlaconically.

           ’Whyshouldn’tIthinkofyou?’sheexclaimed,withhardlybreathtoutterit.

           Hegavethewry,quickhissofalaugh.

           ’Oh,inthatway!...MayIholdyourhandforaminute?’heaskedsuddenly,fixinghiseyesonherwithalmosthypnoticpower,andsendingoutanappealthataffectedherdirectinthewomb.

           Shestaredathim,dazedandtransfixed,andhewentoverandkneeledbesideher,andtookhertwofeetcloseinhistwohands,andburiedhisfaceinherlap,remainingmotionless.Shewasperfectlydimanddazed,lookingdowninasortofamazementattherathertendernapeofhisneck,feelinghisfacepressingherthighs.Inallherburningdismay,shecouldnothelpputtingherhand,withtendernessandcompassion,onthedefencelessnapeofhisneck,andhetrembled,withadeepshudder.

           Thenhelookedupatherwiththatawfulappealinhisfull,glowingeyes.