վҳʱ ƾ̨ ۵ Ļ Ƶ֪ʶȨ


2020-08-03 23:20:59  Դձ


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`Good afternoon!'


`Oh that!...he'll divorce you all right...Why don't you and I marry? I want to marry. I know it would be the best thing for me...marry and lead a regular life. I lead the deuce of a life, simply tearing myself to pieces. Look here, you and I, we're made for one another...hand and glove. Why don't we marry? Do you see any reason why we shouldn't?'

`Very well, Sir Clifford.'

But Clifford was not like that. His whole race was not like that. They were all inwardly hard and separate, and warmth to them was just bad taste. You had to get on without it, and hold your own; which was all very well if you were of the same class and race. Then you could keep yourself cold and be very estimable, and hold your own, and enjoy the satisfaction of holding it. But if you were of another class and another race it wouldn't do; there was no fun merely holding your own, and feeling you belonged to the ruling class. What was the point, when even the smartest aristocrats had really nothing positive of their own to hold, and their rule was really a farce, not rule at all? What was the point? It was all cold nonsense.

Ԫ֣ ɻ

`You think so?' he said coldly.

But she was. A strange, weary yearning, a dissatisfaction had started in her. Clifford did not notice: those were not things he was aware of. But the stranger knew. To Connie, everything in her world and life seemed worn out, and her dissatisfaction was older than the hills.

Ԫ֣йҶ ۻ


`In what way doesn't it suit her?' he asked stiffly.

<--------------------------------------------------------------------------------`Bravo!' roared Charlie. `What do you think of Bolshevism?'

`But the wood is older than your family,' said Connie gently.


He thought for a moment, then flushed very red. He was angry and offended.





Ԫ˰IPO?ʱĺ He was a more excited lover that night, with his strange, small boy's frail nakedness. Connie found it impossible to come to her crisis before he had really finished his. And he roused a certain craving passion in her, with his little boy's nakedness and softness; she had to go on after he had finished, in the wild tumult and heaving of her loins, while he heroically kept himself up, and present in her, with all his will and self-offering, till she brought about her own crisis, with weird little cries. ϸ

жʮΪ֪| ̵2018|ϰƽϯ""

Ԫ޺Ա̮Уֳ `Of course I should mind. Sex is a private thing between me and Julia; and of course I should mind anyone else trying to mix in.' ϸ

Ԫ֣ȡоľƤзʱˣ| ̵2018|ͻӲºȡ ˿ͱ⺽չ˾12