Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           ’Sheshouldha’beenslappedintime.’

           ’Butwhy?andshe’ssonice.’

           Hedidn’tanswer,wentrounddoingtheeveningchores,withaquiet,inevitablesortofmotion.Hewasoutwardlyangry,butnotwithher.SoConniefelt.Andhisangergavehimapeculiarhandsomeness,aninwardnessandglistenthatthrilledherandmadeherlimbsgomolten.

           Stillhetooknonoticeofher.

           Tillhesatdownandbegantounlacehisboots.Thenhelookedupatherfromunderhisbrows,onwhichtheangerstillsatfirm.

           ’Shan’tyougoup?’hesaid.’There’sacandle!’

           Hejerkedhisheadswiftlytoindicatethecandleburningonthetable.Shetookitobediently,andhewatchedthefullcurveofherhipsasshewentupthefirststairs.

           Itwasanightofsensualpassion,inwhichshewasalittlestartledandalmostunwilling:yetpiercedagainwithpiercingthrillsofsensuality,different,sharper,moreterriblethanthethrillsoftenderness,but,atthemoment,moredesirable.Thoughalittlefrightened,shelethimhavehisway,andthereckless,shamelesssensualityshookhertoherfoundations,strippedhertotheverylast,andmadeadifferentwomanofher.Itwasnotreallylove.Itwasnotvoluptuousness.Itwassensualitysharpandsearingasfire,burningthesoultotinder.

           Burningouttheshames,thedeepest,oldestshames,inthemostsecretplaces.Itcostheranefforttolethimhavehiswayandhiswillofher.Shehadtobeapassive,consentingthing,likeaslave,aphysicalslave.