{"id":3003,"date":"2025-05-25T02:21:47","date_gmt":"2025-05-25T02:21:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=3003"},"modified":"2025-05-25T02:21:47","modified_gmt":"2025-05-25T02:21:47","slug":"the-last-laugh-by-d-h-lawrence","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=3003","title":{"rendered":"The Last Laugh by D. H. Lawrence"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>The Last Laugh by <a href=\"https:\/\/quizlit.org\/the-horse-dealers-daughter-by-d-h-lawrence\">D. H. Lawrence<\/a> was published in 1928. Set in a dreamlike snowy London the question left open is who the three people in the story saw on the snowy evening.\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><em>This post may contain affiliate links that earn us a commission at no extra cost to you.<\/em><\/p>\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading has-text-align-center\">The Last Laugh by D. H. Lawrence<\/h2>\n<div class=\"epyt-video-wrapper\">\n<div class=\"__youtube_prefs__ epyt-facade no-lazyload\"><button class=\"epyt-facade-play\"><\/button><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<h3 class=\"wp-block-heading has-text-align-center\">The Last Laugh by D. H. Lawrence<\/h3>\n<p>There was a little snow on the ground, and the church clock had just struck midnight. Hampstead in the night of winter for once was looking pretty, with clean, white earth and lamps for moon, and dark sky above the lamps.<\/p>\n<p>A confused little sound of voices, a gleam of hidden yellow light. And then the garden door of a tall, dark Georgian house suddenly opened, and three people confusedly emerged. A girl in a dark-blue coat and fur turban, very erect; a fellow with a little dispatch case, slouching; a thin man with a red beard, bareheaded, peering out of the gateway down the hill that swung in a curve downward toward London.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook at it! A new world!\u201d cried the man in the beard ironically, as he stood on the step and peered out.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, Lorenzo! It\u2019s only whitewash!\u201d cried the young man in the overcoat. His voice was handsome, resonant, plangent, with a weary, sardonic touch.<\/p>\n<p>As he turned back, his face was dark in shadow.<\/p>\n<p>The girl with the erect, alert head, like a bird, turned back to the two men.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat was that?\u201d she asked, in her quick, quiet voice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLorenzo says it\u2019s a new world. I say it\u2019s only whitewash,\u201d cried the man in the street.<\/p>\n<p>She stood still and lifted her woolly, gloved finger. She was deaf and was taking it in.<\/p>\n<p>Yes, she had got it. She gave a quick, chuckling laugh, glanced very quickly at the man in the bowler hat, then back at the man in the stucco gateway, who was grinning like a satyr and waving good-by.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood-by, Lorenzo!\u201d came the resonant, weary cry of the man in the bowler hat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGood-by!\u201d came the sharp, night-bird call of the girl.<\/p>\n<p>The green gate slammed, then the inner door. The two were alone in the street, save for the policeman at the corner. The road curved steeply downhill.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019d better mind how you step!\u201d shouted the man in the bowler hat, leaning near the erect, sharp girl, and slouching in his walk. She paused a moment, to make sure what he had said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t mind me, I\u2019m quite all right. Mind yourself!\u201d she said quickly. At that very moment he gave a wild lurch on the slippery snow, but managed to save himself from falling. She watched him, on tiptoes of alertness. His bowler hat bounced away in the thin snow. They were under a lamp near the curve. As he ducked for his hat he showed a bald spot, just like a tonsure, among his dark, thin, rather curly hair. And when he looked up at her, with his thick, black brows sardonically arched, and his rather hooked nose self-derisive, jamming his hat on again, he seemed like a satanic young priest. His face had beautiful lines, like a faun, and a doubtful, martyred expression. A sort of faun on the cross, with all the malice of the complication.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you hurt yourself?\u201d she asked, in her quick, cool, unemotional way.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo!\u201d he shouted derisively.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cGive me the machine, won\u2019t you?\u201d she said, holding out her woolly hand. \u201cI believe I\u2019m safer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you want it?\u201d he shouted.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, I\u2019m sure I\u2019m safer.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He handed her the little brown dispatch case, which was really a Marconi listening machine for her deafness. She marched erect as ever. He shoved his hands deep in his overcoat pockets and slouched along beside her, as if he wouldn\u2019t make his legs firm. The road curved down in front of them, clean and pale with snow under the lamps. A motor car came churning up. A few dark figures slipped away into the dark recesses of the houses, like fishes among rocks above a sea bed of white sand. On the left was a tuft of trees sloping upward into the dark.<\/p>\n<p>He kept looking around, pushing out his finely shaped chin and his hooked nose as if he were listening for something. He could still hear the motor car climbing on to the Heath. Below was the yellow, foul-smelling glare of the Hampstead tube station. On the right the trees.<\/p>\n<p>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.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJames,\u201d he said loudly to her, leaning toward her ear. \u201cDo you hear somebody laughing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLaughing?\u201d she retorted quickly. \u201cWho\u2019s laughing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know. Somebody!\u201d he shouted, showing his teeth at her in a very odd way.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I hear nobody,\u201d she announced.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut it\u2019s most extraordinary!\u201d he cried, his voice slurring up and down. \u201cPut on your machine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPut it on?\u201d she retorted. \u201cWhat for?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cTo see if you can hear it,\u201d he cried.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHear what?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe laughing. Somebody laughing. It\u2019s most extraordinary.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She gave her odd little chuckle and handed him her machine. He held it while she opened the lid and attached the wires, putting the band over her head and the receivers at her ears, like a wireless operator. Crumbs of snow fell down the cold darkness. She switched on; little yellow lights in glass tubes shone in the machine. She was connected, she was listening. He stood with his head ducked, his hands shoved down in his overcoat pockets.<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly he lifted his face and gave the weirdest, slightly neighing laugh, uncovering his strong, spaced teeth and arching his black brows, and watching her with queer, gleaming, goatlike eyes.<\/p>\n<p>She seemed a little dismayed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere!\u201d he said. \u201cDidn\u2019t you hear it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI heard you!\u201d she said, in a tone which conveyed that that was enough.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut didn\u2019t you hear it?\u201d he cried, unfurling his lips oddly again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo!\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>He looked at her vindictively, and stood again with ducked head. She remained erect, her fur hat in her hand, her fine bobbed hair banded with the machine band and catching crumbs of snow, her odd, bright-eyed, deaf nymph\u2019s face lifted with blank listening.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere!\u201d he cried, suddenly jerking up his gleaming face. \u201cYou mean to tell me you can\u2019t\u2014\u2014\u201d He was looking at her almost diabolically. But something else was too strong for him. His face wreathed with a startling, peculiar smile, seeming to gleam, and suddenly the most extraordinary laugh came bursting out of him, like an animal laughing. It was a strange, neighing sound, amazing in her ears. She was startled, and switched her machine quieter.<\/p>\n<p>A large form loomed up: a tall, cleanshaven young policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA radio?\u201d he asked laconically.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, it\u2019s my machine. I\u2019m deaf!\u201d said Miss James quickly and distinctly. She was not the daughter of a peer for nothing.<\/p>\n<p>The man in the bowler hat lifted his face and glared at the fresh-faced young policeman with a peculiar white glare in his eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook here!\u201d he said distinctly. \u201cDid you hear some one laughing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLaughing! I hear you, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, not me.\u201d 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. \u201cThe most extraordinary laughter I ever heard,\u201d he added, and the same touch of derisive exultation sounded in his tones.<\/p>\n<p>The policeman looked down on him cogitatingly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s perfectly all right,\u201d said Miss James coolly. \u201cHe\u2019s not drunk. He just hears something that we don\u2019t hear.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDrunk!\u201d echoed the man in the bowler hat, in profoundly amused derision. \u201cIf I were merely drunk\u2014\u2014\u201d And off he went again in the wild, neighing, animal laughter, while his averted face seemed to flash.<\/p>\n<p>At the sound of the laughter something roused in the blood of the girl and of the policeman. They stood nearer to one another, so that their sleeves touched and they looked wonderingly across at the man in the bowler hat. He lifted his black brows at them.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDo you mean to say you heard nothing?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly you,\u201d said Miss James.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly you, sir!\u201d echoed the policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat was it like?\u201d asked Miss James.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAsk me to describe it!\u201d retorted the young man, in extreme contempt. \u201cIt\u2019s the most marvelous sound in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And truly he seemed wrapped up in a new mystery.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere does it come from?\u201d asked Miss James, very practical.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cApparently,\u201d he answered in contempt, \u201cfrom over there.\u201d And he pointed to the trees and bushes inside the railings over the road.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, let\u2019s go and see!\u201d she said. \u201cI can carry my machine and go on listening.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The man seemed relieved to get rid of the burden. He shoved his hands in his pockets again and sloped off across the road. The policeman, a queer look flickering on his fresh young face, put his hand round the girl\u2019s 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. And she could feel the presence of the young policeman, through all the thickness of his dark-blue uniform, as something young and alert and bright.<\/p>\n<p>When they came up to the man in the bowler hat, he was standing with his head ducked, his ears pricked, listening beside the iron rail inside which grew big, black holly trees tufted with snow, and old, ribbed, silent English elms.<\/p>\n<p>The policeman and the girl stood waiting. She was peering into the bushes with the sharp eyes of a deaf nymph, deaf to the world\u2019s noises. The man in the bowler hat listened intensely. A lorry rolled downhill, making the earth tremble.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere!\u201d cried the girl, as the lorry rumbled darkly past. And she glanced round with flashing eyes at her policeman, her fresh, soft face gleaming with startled life. She glanced straight into the puzzled, amused eyes of the young policeman. He was just enjoying himself.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t you see?\u201d she said, rather imperiously.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat is it, miss?\u201d answered the policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI mustn\u2019t point,\u201d she said. \u201cLook where I look.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And she looked away with brilliant eyes, into the dark holly bushes. She must see something, for she smiled faintly, with subtle satisfaction, and she tossed her erect head in all the pride of vindication. 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.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI always knew I should see him,\u201d she said triumphantly to herself.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhom do you see?\u201d shouted the man in the bowler hat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t you see him, too?\u201d she asked, turning round her soft, arch, nymphlike face anxiously. She was anxious for the little man to see.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I see nothing. What do you see, James?\u201d cried the man in the bowler hat, insisting.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA man.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere. Among the holly bushes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs he there now?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo! He\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat sort of a man?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat did he look like?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But at that instant the man in the bowler hat turned suddenly, and the arch, triumphant look flew to his face.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy, he must be there!\u201d he cried, pointing up the grove. \u201cDon\u2019t you hear him laughing? He must be behind those trees.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And his voice, with curious delight, broke into a laugh again, as he stood and stamped his feet on the snow, and danced to his own laughter, ducking his head. Then he turned away and ran swiftly up the avenue lined with old trees.<\/p>\n<p>He slowed down as a door at the end of a garden path, white with untouched snow, suddenly opened, and a woman in a long-fringed black shawl stood in the light. She peered out into the night. Then she came down to the low garden gate. Crumbs of snow still fell. She had dark hair and a tall, dark comb.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you knock at my door?\u201d she asked of the man in the bowler hat.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI? No!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSomebody knocked at my door.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid they? Are you sure? They can\u2019t have done. There are no footmarks in the snow.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNor are there!\u201d she said. \u201cBut somebody knocked and called something.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s very curious,\u201d said the man. \u201cWere you expecting some one?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Not exactly expecting any one. Except that one is always expecting Somebody, you know.\u201d In the dimness of the snow-lit night he could see her making big, dark eyes at him.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWas it some one laughing?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. It was no one laughing, exactly. Some one knocked, and I ran to open, hoping as one always hopes, you know\u2014\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh\u2014that something wonderful is going to happen.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was standing close to the low gate. She stood on the opposite side. Her hair was dark, her face seemed dusky, as she looked up at him with her dark, meaningful eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you wish some one would come?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cVery much,\u201d she replied, in her plangent voice.<\/p>\n<p>He bent down, unlatching the gate. As he did so the woman in the black shawl turned and, glancing over her shoulder, hurried back to the house, walking unevenly in the snow, on her high-heeled shoes. The man hurried after her, hastening like a hound to catch up.<\/p>\n<p>Meanwhile the girl and the policeman had come up. The girl stood still when she saw the man in the bowler hat going up the garden walk after the woman in the black shawl with the fringe.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs he going in?\u201d she asked quickly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLooks like it, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d said the policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes he know that woman?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI can\u2019t say. I should say he soon will,\u201d replied the policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut who is she?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI couldn\u2019t say who she is.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The two dark, confused figures entered the lighted doorway, then the door closed on them.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s gone,\u201d said the girl outside on the snow. She hastily began to pull off the band of her telephone receiver, and switched off her machine. The tubes of secret light disappeared, she packed up the little leather case. Then, pulling on her soft fur cap, she stood once more ready.<\/p>\n<p>The slightly martial look which her long, dark-blue, military-seeming coat gave her was intensified, while the slightly anxious, bewildered look of her face had gone. She seemed to stretch herself, to stretch her limbs free. And the inert look had left her full, soft cheeks. Her cheeks were alive with the glimmer of pride and a new, dangerous surety.<\/p>\n<p>She looked quickly at the tall young policeman. He was cleanshaven, fresh-faced, smiling oddly under his helmet, waiting in subtle patience a few yards away. She saw that he was a decent young man, one of the waiting sort.<\/p>\n<p>The second of ancient fear was followed at once in her by a blithe, unaccustomed sense of power.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell!\u201d she said. \u201cI should say it\u2019s no use waiting.\u201d She spoke decisively.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t have to wait for him, do you?\u201d asked the policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNot at all. He\u2019s much better where he is.\u201d 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.<\/p>\n<p>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. Her breast felt full of power, and her legs felt long and strong and wild. She was surprised herself at the sensation of triumph and of rosy anger. Her hands felt keen on her wrists. She who had always declared she had not a muscle in her body! Even now, it was not muscle, it was a sort of flame.<\/p>\n<p>Suddenly it began to snow heavily, with fierce, frozen puffs of wind. The snow was small, in frozen grains, and hit sharp on her face. It seemed to whirl round her as if she herself were whirling in a cloud. But she did not mind. There was a flame in her, her limbs felt flamey and strong, amid the whirl.<\/p>\n<p>And the whirling, snowy air seemed full of presences, full of strange, unheard noises. She was used to the sensation of noises taking place which she could not hear. This sensation became very strong. She felt something was happening in the wild air.<\/p>\n<p>The London air was no longer heavy and clammy, saturated with ghosts of the unwilling dead. A new, clean tempest swept down from the pole, and there were noises.<\/p>\n<p>Voices were calling. In spite of her deafness she could hear some one, several voices, calling and whistling, as if many people were hallooing through the air:<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s come back! Aha! He\u2019s come back!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>There was a wild, whistling, jubilant sound of voices in the storm of snow. Then obscured lightning winked through the snow in the air.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs that thunder and lightning?\u201d she asked of the young policeman, as she stood still, waiting for his form to emerge through the veil of whirling snow.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSeems like it to me,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>And at that very moment the lightning blinked again, and the dark, laughing face was near her face, it almost touched her cheek.<\/p>\n<p>She started back, but a flame of delight went over her.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere!\u201d she said. \u201cDid you see that?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt lightened,\u201d said the policeman. She was looking at him almost angrily. But then the clean, fresh animal look of his skin, and the tame-animal look in his frightened eyes amused her; she laughed her low, triumphant laugh. He was obviously afraid, like a frightened dog that sees something uncanny.<\/p>\n<p>The storm suddenly whistled louder, more violently, and, with a strange noise like castanets, she seemed to hear voices clapping and crying:<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe is here! He\u2019s come back!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She nodded her head gravely.<\/p>\n<p>The policeman and she moved on side by side. She lived alone in a little stucco house in a side street down the hill. There was a church and a grove of trees, and then the little old row of houses. The wind blew fiercely, thick with snow. Now and again a taxi went by with its lights showing weirdly. But the world seemed empty, uninhabited save by snow and voices.<\/p>\n<p>As the girl and the policeman turned past the grove of trees near the church, a great whirl of wind and snow made them stand still, and in the wild confusion they heard a whirling of sharp, delighted voices, something like seagulls, crying:<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s here! He\u2019s here!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, I\u2019m jolly glad he\u2019s back,\u201d said the girl calmly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d said the nervous policeman, hovering near the girl.<\/p>\n<p>The wind let them move forward. As they passed along the railings it seemed to them the doors of the church were open, and the windows were out, and the snow and the voices were blowing in a wild career all through the church.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow extraordinary that they left the church open!\u201d said the girl.<\/p>\n<p>The policeman stood still. He could not reply.<\/p>\n<p>And as they stood they listened to the wind and the church full of whirling voices all calling confusedly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow I hear the laughing,\u201d she said suddenly.<\/p>\n<p>It came from the church: a sound of low, subtle, endless laughter, a strange, naked sound.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNow I hear it!\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>But the policeman did not speak. He stood cowed, listening to the strange noises in the church.<\/p>\n<p>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.<\/p>\n<p>There was more laughter, and a tearing sound. On the wind, pieces of paper, leaves of books, came whirling among the snow through the dark window. Then a white thing, soaring like a crazy bird, rose up on the wind as if it had wings, and lodged on a black tree outside, struggling. It was the altar cloth.<\/p>\n<p>There came a bit of gay, trilling music. The wind was running over the organ pipes like Pan pipes, quickly up and down. Snatches of wild, gay, trilling music, and bursts of the naked, low laughter.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cReally!\u201d said the girl. \u201cThis is most extraordinary. Do you hear the music and the people laughing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYes, I hear somebody on the organ!\u201d said the policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAnd do you get the puff of warm wind? Smelling of spring. Almond blossom, that\u2019s what it is! A most marvelous scent of almond blossom. Isn\u2019t it an extraordinary thing!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She went on triumphantly past the church, and came to the row of little old houses. She entered her own gate in the little railed entrance.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHere I am!\u201d she said finally. \u201cI\u2019m home now. Thank you very much for coming with me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>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.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCan I come in and warm myself a bit?\u201d he asked humbly. She knew it was fear rather than cold that froze him. He was in mortal fear.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell!\u201d she said. \u201cStay down in the sitting room if you like. But don\u2019t 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.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She left him on the big, low couch before the fire, his face bluish and blank with fear. He rolled his blue eyes after her as she left the room. But she went up to her bedroom, and fastened her door.<\/p>\n<p>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.<\/p>\n<p>She was looking at her own paintings, and chuckling to herself over their comicalness. Suddenly they struck her as absolutely absurd. She quite enjoyed looking at them, they seemed to her so grotesque. Especially her self-portrait, with its nice brown hair and its slightly opened rabbit mouth and its baffled, uncertain rabbit eyes. She looked at the painted face and laughed in a long, rippling laugh, till the yellow canaries like faded daffodils almost went mad in an effort to sing louder. The girl\u2019s long, rippling laugh sounded through the house uncannily.<\/p>\n<p>The housekeeper, a rather sad-faced young woman of a superior sort\u2014nearly all people in England are of the superior sort, superiority being an English ailment\u2014came in with an inquiring and rather disapproving look.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you call, Miss James?\u201d she asked loudly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. No, I didn\u2019t call. Don\u2019t shout, I can hear quite well,\u201d replied the girl.<\/p>\n<p>The housekeeper looked at her again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou knew there was a young man in the sitting room?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Really!\u201d cried the girl. \u201cWhat, the young policeman? I\u2019d forgotten all about him. He came in in the storm to warm himself. Hasn\u2019t he gone?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, Miss James.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow extraordinary of him! What time is it? Quarter to nine! Why didn\u2019t he go when he was warm? I must go and see him, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe says he\u2019s lame,\u201d said the housekeeper censoriously and loudly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLame! That\u2019s extraordinary. He certainly wasn\u2019t last night. But don\u2019t shout. I can hear quite well.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs Mr. Marchbanks coming in to breakfast, Miss James?\u201d said the housekeeper, more and more censorious.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI couldn\u2019t say. But I\u2019ll come down as soon as mine is ready. I\u2019ll be down in a minute, anyhow, to see the policeman. Extraordinary that he is still here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She sat down before her window, in the sun, to think a while. She could see the snow outside, the bare, purplish trees. The air all seemed rare and different. 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.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt really is extraordinary!\u201d she said to herself. \u201cI certainly saw that man\u2019s face. What a wonderful face it was!<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI 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\u2019s not a person exactly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut how wonderful of him to come back and alter all the world immediately! Isn\u2019t that extraordinary. I wonder if he\u2019ll have altered Marchbanks. Of course, Marchbanks never saw him. But he heard him. Wouldn\u2019t that do as well, I wonder! I wonder!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She went off into a muse about Marchbanks. She and he were such friends. They had been friends like that for almost two years. Never lovers. Never that at all. But friends.<\/p>\n<p>And after all, she had been in love with him: in her head. This seemed now so funny to her: that she had been, in her head, so much in love with him. After all, life was too absurd.<\/p>\n<p>Because now she saw herself and him as such a funny pair. He so funnily taking life terribly seriously, especially his own life. And she so ridiculously determined to save him from himself. Oh, how absurd! Determined to save him from himself, and wildly in love with him in the effort. The determination to save him from himself!<\/p>\n<p>Absurd! Absurd! Absurd! Since she had seen the man laughing among the holly bushes\u2014such extraordinary, wonderful laughter\u2014she had seen her own ridiculousness. Really, what fantastic silliness, saving a man from himself! Saving anybody. What fantastic silliness! How much more amusing and lively to let a man go to perdition in his own way. Perdition was more amusing than salvation anyhow, and a much better place for most men to go to.<\/p>\n<p>She had never been in love with any man, and only spuriously in love with Marchbanks. She saw it quite plainly now. After all, what nonsense it all was, this being-in-love business. Thank goodness she had never made the humiliating mistake.<\/p>\n<p>No, the man among the holly bushes had made her see it all so plainly: the ridiculousness of being in love, the infra dig business of chasing a man or being chased by a man.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs love really so absurd and infra dig?\u201d she said aloud to herself.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy of course!\u201d came a deep, laughing voice.<\/p>\n<p>She started round, but nobody was to be seen.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI expect it\u2019s that man again!\u201d she said to herself. \u201cIt really is remarkable, you know. I consider it\u2019s a remarkable thing that I never really wanted a man\u2014any man. And there I am over thirty. It is curious. Whether it\u2019s something wrong with me, or right with me, I can\u2019t say. I don\u2019t know till I\u2019ve proved it. But I believe, if that man kept on laughing, something would happen to me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She smelt the curious smell of almond blossom in the room, and heard the distant laugh again.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI do wonder why Marchbanks went with that woman last night. Whatever could he want of her?\u2014or she him? So strange, as if they both had made up their minds to something! How extraordinarily puzzling life is! So messy, it all seems.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy does nobody ever laugh in life like that man. He did seem so wonderful. So scornful! And so proud! And so real! With those laughing, scornful, amazing eyes, just laughing and disappearing again. I can\u2019t imagine him chasing any woman, thank goodness. It\u2019s all so messy. My policeman would be messy if one would let him: like a dog. I do dislike dogs, really I do. And men do seem so doggy!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>But even while she mused, she began to laugh again to herself with a long, low chuckle. How wonderful of that man to come and laugh like that and make the sky crack and shrivel like an old skin. Wasn\u2019t he wonderful! Wouldn\u2019t it be wonderful if he just touched her. Even touched her. She felt, if he touched her, she herself would emerge new and tender out of an old, hard skin. She was gazing abstractedly out of the window.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere he comes, just now,\u201d she said abruptly. But she meant Marchbanks, not the laughing man.<\/p>\n<p>There he came, his hands still shoved down in his overcoat pockets, his head still rather furtively ducked, in the bowler hat, and his legs still rather shambling. He came hurrying across the road, not looking up, deep in thought, no doubt. Thinking profoundly, with agonies of agitation, no doubt about his last night\u2019s experience. It made her laugh.<\/p>\n<p>She, watching from the window above, burst into a long laugh, and the canaries went off their heads again.<\/p>\n<p>He was in the hall below. His resonant voice was calling, rather imperiously:<\/p>\n<p>\u201cJames! Are you coming down?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d she called. \u201cYou come up.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He came up two at a time, as if his feet were a bit savage with the stairs for obstructing him.<\/p>\n<p>In the doorway he stood staring at her with a vacant, sardonic look, his gray eyes moving with a queer light And she looked back at him with a curious, rather haughty carelessness.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t you want your breakfast?\u201d she asked. It was his custom to come and take breakfast with her each morning.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo,\u201d he answered loudly. \u201cI went to a tea shop.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t shout,\u201d she said. \u201cI can hear you quite well.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked at her with mockery and a touch of malice.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI believe you always could,\u201d he said, still loudly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWell, anyway, I can now, so you needn\u2019t shout,\u201d she replied.<\/p>\n<p>And again his gray eyes, with the queer, grayish phosphorescent gleam in them, lingered malignantly on her face.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDon\u2019t look at me,\u201d she said calmly. \u201cI know all about everything.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He burst into a pouf of malicious laughter.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy, what\u2019s the matter!\u201d he said curiously. \u201cWhat have you been doing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t quite know. Why? Are you going to call me to account?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you hear that laughing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, yes. And many more things. And saw things, too.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHave you seen the paper?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo. Don\u2019t shout, I can hear.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThere\u2019s been a great storm, blew out the windows and doors of the church outside here, and pretty well wrecked the place.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI saw it. A leaf of the church Bible blew right in my face\u2014from the Book of Job.\u201d She gave a low laugh.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut what else did you see?\u201d he cried loudly.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI saw him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh, that I can\u2019t say.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut what was he like?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat I can\u2019t tell you. I don\u2019t really know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut you must know. Did your policeman see him, too?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I don\u2019t suppose he did. My policeman!\u201d And she went off into a long ripple of laughter. \u201cHe is by no means mine. But I must go downstairs and see him.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s certainly made you very strange.\u201d Marchbanks said. \u201cYou\u2019ve got no soul, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh, thank goodness for that!\u201d she cried. \u201cMy policeman has one. I\u2019m sure. My policeman!\u201d And she went off again into a long peal of laughter, the canaries pealing shrill accompaniment.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter with you?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHaving no soul. I never had one really. It was always fobbed off on me. Soul was the only thing there was between you and me. Thank goodness it\u2019s gone. Haven\u2019t you lost yours? The one that seemed to worry you, like a decayed tooth?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut what are you talking about?\u201d he cried.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s all so extraordinary. But look here, I must go down and see my policeman. He\u2019s downstairs in the sitting room. You\u2019d better come with me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They went down together. The policeman, in his waistcoat and shirt sleeves, was lying on the sofa, with a very long face.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook here!\u201d said Miss James to him. \u201cIs it true you\u2019re lame?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt is true. That\u2019s why I\u2019m here. I can\u2019t walk,\u201d said the fair-haired young man as tears came to his eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut how did it happen? You weren\u2019t lame last night,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t know how it happened\u2014but when I woke up and tried to stand up, I couldn\u2019t do it.\u201d The tears ran down his distressed face.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHow very extraordinary!\u201d she said. \u201cWhat can we do about it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhich foot is it?\u201d asked Marchbanks. \u201cLet us have a look at it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI don\u2019t like to,\u201d said the poor devil.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019d better,\u201d said Miss James.<\/p>\n<p>He slowly pulled off his stocking, and showed his white left foot curiously clubbed, like the weird paw of some animal. When he looked at it himself, he sobbed.<\/p>\n<p>And as he sobbed, the girl heard again the low, exulting laughter. But she paid no heed to it, gazing curiously at the weeping young policeman.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDoes it hurt?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt does if I try to walk on it,\u201d wept the young man.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what,\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019ll telephone for a doctor, and he can take you home in a taxi.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The young fellow shamefacedly wiped his eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBut have you no idea how it happened?\u201d asked Marchbanks anxiously.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI haven\u2019t myself,\u201d said the young fellow.<\/p>\n<p>At that moment the girl heard the low, eternal laugh right in her ear. She started, but could see nothing.<\/p>\n<p>She started round again as Marchbanks gave a strange, yelping cry, like a shot animal. His white face was drawn, distorted in a curious grin, that was chiefly agony but partly wild recognition. He was staring with fixed eyes at something. And in the rolling agony of his eyes was the horrible grin of a man who realizes he has made a final, and this time fatal, fool of himself.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy,\u201d he yelped in a high voice, \u201cI knew it was he!\u201d And with a queer, shuddering laugh he pitched forward on the carpet and lay writhing for a moment on the floor. Then he lay still, in a weird, distorted position, like a man struck by lightning.<\/p>\n<p>Miss James stared with round, staring brown eyes.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs he dead?\u201d she asked quickly.<\/p>\n<p>The young policeman was trembling so that he could hardly speak. She could hear his teeth chattering.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSeems like it,\u201d he stammered.<\/p>\n<p>There was a faint smell of almond blossom in the air.<\/p>\n<h2 class=\"wp-block-heading has-text-align-center\">Best D. H Lawrence Books to Read<\/h2>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/amzn.to\/3WFWRYJ\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><\/a><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/amzn.to\/3YCY2KX\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><\/a><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/amzn.to\/3WTxe82\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><\/a><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/amzn.to\/4cd9d04\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\"><\/a><br \/>\nClick on the image to buy a copy<\/p>\n<p>If you enjoyed The Last laugh by D. H. Lawrence, check out <a href=\"https:\/\/quizlit.org\/the-knife-and-the-naked-chalk-by-rudyard-kipling\">The Horse Dealer\u2019s Daughter by D. H. Lawrence<\/a><\/p>\n<p>Narrated by Andy Sames, courtesy of Librivox<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The Last Laugh by D. H. Lawrence was published in 1928. Set in a dreamlike snowy London the question left open is who the three people in the story saw on the snowy evening.\u00a0 This post may contain affiliate links that earn us a commission at no extra cost to you. The Last Laugh by [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":3004,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3003","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-bookreviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3003"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3003"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3003\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3004"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3003"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3003"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3003"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}