О дивный новый мир
Chapter 7
Oh,muchworsethantheoldman,muchworse!Andsuddenlythecreatureburstoutinatorrentofspeech,rushedatherwithoutstretchedarmsand–Ford!Ford!itwastoorevolting,inanothermomentshe’dbesick–pressedheragainstthebulge,thebosom,andbegantokissher.Ford!tokiss,slobberingly,andsmelttoohorrible,obviouslyneverhadabath,andsimplyreekedofthatbeastlystuffthatwasputintoDeltaandEpsilonbottles(no,itwasn’ttrueaboutBernard),positivelystankofalcohol.Shebrokeawayasquicklyasshecould.
Ablubberedanddistortedfaceconfrontedher;thecreaturewascrying.
"Oh,mydear,mydear."Thetorrentofwordsflowedsobbingly."Ifyouknewhowglad–afteralltheseyears!Acivilizedface.Yes,andcivilizedclothes.BecauseIthoughtIshouldneverseeapieceofrealacetatesilkagain."ShefingeredthesleeveofLenina’sshirt.Thenailswereblack."Andthoseadorableviscosevelveteenshorts!Doyouknow,dear,I’vestillgotmyoldclothes,theonesIcamein,putawayinabox.I’llshowthemyouafterwards.Though,ofcourse,theacetatehasallgoneintoholes.Butsuchalovelywhitebandolier–thoughImustsayyourgreenmoroccoisevenlovelier.Notthatitdidmemuchgood,thatbandolier."Hertearsbegantoflowagain."IsupposeJohntoldyou.WhatIhadtosuffer–andnotagrammeofsomatobehad.Onlyadrinkofmescaleverynowandthen,whenPopéusedtobringit.PopéisaboyIusedtoknow.
