Любовник леди Чаттерлей

           Likehillocksofsand,theArabssay,softanddownward-slippingwithalongslope.Herethelifestilllingeredhoping.Butheretooshewasthinner,andgoingunripe,astringent.

           Butthefrontofherbodymadehermiserable.Itwasalreadybeginningtoslacken,withaslacksortofthinness,almostwithered,goingoldbeforeithadeverreallylived.Shethoughtofthechildshemightsomehowbear.Wasshefit,anyhow?

           Sheslippedintohernightdress,andwenttobed,whereshesobbedbitterly.AndinherbitternessburnedacoldindignationagainstClifford,andhiswritingsandhistalk:againstallthemenofhissortwhodefraudedawomanevenofherownbody.

           Unjust!Unjust!Thesenseofdeepphysicalinjusticeburnedtoherverysoul.

           Butinthemorning,allthesame,shewasupatseven,andgoingdownstairstoClifford.Shehadtohelphiminalltheintimatethings,forhehadnoman,andrefusedawoman-servant.Thehousekeeper’shusband,whohadknownhimasaboy,helpedhim,anddidanyheavylifting;butConniedidthepersonalthings,andshedidthemwillingly.Itwasademandonher,butshehadwantedtodowhatshecould.

           SoshehardlyeverwentawayfromWragby,andneverformorethanadayortwo;whenMrsBetts,thehousekeeper,attendedtoClifford.He,aswasinevitableinthecourseoftime,tookalltheserviceforgranted.Itwasnaturalheshould.

           Andyet,deepinsideherself,asenseofinjustice,ofbeingdefrauded,hadbeguntoburninConnie.Thephysicalsenseofinjusticeisadangerousfeeling,onceitisawakened.Itmusthaveoutlet,oriteatsawaytheoneinwhomitisaroused.