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发帖数: 4 | 1 This was more or less Constance Chatterley's position. The war had brought the roof down over her head. And she had realized that one must live and learn.
She married Clifford Chatterley in 1917, when he was home for a month on leave. They had a month's honeymoon. Then he went back to Flanders: to be shipped over to England again six months later, more or less in bits. Constance, his wife, was then
twenty-three years old, and he was twenty-nine.
His hold on life was marvellous. He didn't die, an |
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