David Herbert Lawrence

prowled round the warehouses in Knarborough and picked up job lots

of stuff, with which he replenished his shabby window. But his heart

was not in the business. Mere tenacity made him hover on with it.

In midsummer Albert Witham came to Woodhouse, and Alvina was invited

to tea. She was very much excited. All the time imagining Albert a

taller, finer Arthur, she had abstained from actually fixing her

mind upon this latter little man. Picture her disappointment when

she found Albert quite unattractive. He was tall and thin and

brittle, with a pale, rather dry, flattish face, and with curious

pale eyes. His impression was one of uncanny flatness, something

like a lemon sole. Curiously flat and fish-like he was, one might

have imagined his backbone to be spread like the backbone of a sole

or a plaice. His teeth were sound, but rather large and yellowish

and flat. A most curious person.

He spoke in a slightly mouthing way, not well bred in spite of

Oxford. There was a distinct Woodhouse twang. He would never be a

gentleman if he lived for ever. Yet he was not ordinary. Really an

odd fish: quite interesting, if one could get over the feeling that

one was looking at him through the glass wall of an aquarium: that

most horrifying of all boundaries between two worlds. In an aquarium

fish seem to come smiling broadly to the doorway, and there to stand

talking to one, in a mouthing fashion, awful to behold. For one

hears no sound from all their mouthing and staring conversation. Now

although Albert Witham had a good strong voice, which rang like

water among rocks in her ear, still she seemed never to hear a word

he was saying. He smiled down at her and fixed her and swayed his

head, and said quite original things, really. For he was a genuine

odd fish. And yet she seemed to hear no sound, no word from him:

nothing came to her. Perhaps as a matter of fact fish do actually

pronounce streams of watery words, to which we, with our

aerial-resonant ears, are deaf for ever.

The odd thing was that this odd fish seemed from the very first to

imagine she had accepted him as a follower. And he was quite

prepared to follow. Nay, from the very first moment he was smiling

on her with a sort of complacent delight--compassionate, one might

almost say--as if there was a full understanding between them. If

only she could have got into the right state of mind, she would

really rather have liked him. He smiled at her, and said really

interesting things between his big teeth. There was something rather

nice about him. But, we must repeat, it was as if the glass wall of

an aquarium divided them.

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