D. H. Lawrence

“ Below was the yellow, foul-smelling glare of the Hampstead tube station. On the right the trees.
The girl, with her alert, pink-and-white face, looked at him sharply, inquisitively. She had an odd, nymphlike inquisitiveness, sometimes like a bird, sometimes a squirrel, sometimes a rabbit; never quite like a woman. At last he stood still, as if he would go no farther. There was a curious, baffled grin on his smooth, cream-colored face. ”

“ She looked at the young policeman. His whole body was white as a wall with snow, and in the vague light of the arc lamp from the street his face was humble and frightened.
“Can I come in and warm myself a bit?” he asked humbly. She knew it was fear rather than cold that froze him. He was in mortal fear.
“Well!” she said. “Stay down in the sitting room if you like. But don’t come upstairs, because I am alone in the house. You can make up the fire in the sitting room, and you can go when you are warm.”
She left him on the big, low couch before the fire, his face bluish and blank with fear. ”

“ The policeman, a queer look flickering on his fresh young face, put his hand round the girl’s arm carefully and subtly, to help her. She did not lean at all on the support of the big hand, but she was interested, so she did not resent it. Having held herself all her life intensely aloof from physical contact, and never having let any man touch her, she now, with a certain nymphlike voluptuousness, allowed the large hand of the young policeman to support her as they followed the quick, wolflike figure of the other man across the road uphill. ”

“ Crumbs of snow still fell. She had dark hair and a tall, dark comb.
“Did you knock at my door?” she asked of the man in the bowler hat.
“I? No!”
“Somebody knocked at my door.”
“Did they? Are you sure? They can’t have done. There are no footmarks in the snow.”
“Nor are there!” she said. “But somebody knocked and called something.”
“That’s very curious,” said the man. “Were you expecting some one?”
“No. Not exactly expecting any one. Except that one is always expecting Somebody, you know.” In the dimness of the snow-lit night he could see her making big, dark eyes at him. ”

“ But the policeman did not speak. He stood cowed, listening to the strange noises in the church.
The wind must have blown out one of the windows, for they could see the snow whirling in volleys through the black gap, and whirling inside the church like a dim light. There came a sudden crash, followed by a burst of chuckling, naked laughter. The snow seemed to make a queer light inside the building, like ghosts moving, big and tall. ”

“ In the morning she was in her studio upstairs in her little house, looking at her own paintings and laughing to herself. Her canaries were talking and shrilly whistling in the sunshine that followed the storm. The cold snow outside was still clean, and the white glare in the air gave the effect of much stronger sunshine than actually existed. ”

“ He gave an impatient jerk of his arm, and lifted his face again. His smooth, creamy face seemed to gleam, there were subtle curves of derisive triumph in all its lines. He was careful not to look directly at the young policeman. “The most extraordinary laughter I ever heard,” he added, and the same touch of derisive exultation sounded in his tones.
The policeman looked down on him cogitatingly.
“It’s perfectly all right,” said Miss James coolly. “He’s not drunk. He just hears something that we don’t hear.”
“Drunk!” echoed the man in the bowler hat, in profoundly amused derision. ”

“ She laughed an odd, brief laugh. Then glancing over her shoulder, she set off down the hill, carrying her little case. Her feet felt light, her legs felt long and strong. She glanced over her shoulder again. The young policeman was following her, and she laughed to herself. Her limbs felt so lithe and so strong, if she wished she could easily run faster than he. If she wished, she could easily kill him, even with her hands.
So it seemed to her. But why kill him? He was a decent young fellow. She had in front of her eyes the dark face among the holly bushes, with the brilliant, mocking eyes. ”

“ The policeman looked at her instead of into the bushes. There was a certain brilliance of triumph and vindication in all the poise of her slim body.
“I always knew I should see him,” she said triumphantly to herself.
“Whom do you see?” shouted the man in the bowler hat.
“Don’t you see him, too?” she asked, turning round her soft, arch, nymphlike face anxiously. She was anxious for the little man to see.
“No, I see nothing. What do you see, James?” cried the man in the bowler hat, insisting.
“A man.” ”

“ Suddenly the world had become quite different, as if some skin or integument had broken, as if the old, moldering London sky had crackled and rolled back, like an old skin, shriveled, leaving an absolutely new blue heaven. ”

“ I certainly saw that man’s face. What a wonderful face it was!
“I shall never forget it. Such laughter! He laughs longest who laughs last. He certainly will have the last laugh. I like him for that: he will laugh last. Must be some one really extraordinary! How very nice to be the one to laugh last. He certainly will. What a wonderful being! I suppose I must call him a being. He’s not a person exactly.
“But how wonderful of him to come back and alter all the world immediately! Isn’t that extraordinary. I wonder if he’ll have altered Marchbanks. Of course, Marchbanks never saw him. ”