‘Watt’s stay in Mr Knott’s house was less agreeable, on this account, than it would have been, if such incidents had been unknown, or his attitude towards them less anxious, that is to say, if Mr Watt’s house had been another house, or Watt another man.
But if Watt was sometimes unsuccessful, and sometimes successful, as in the affair of the Galls father and son, in foistering a meaning there where no meaning appeared, he was most often neither the one, or the other.
Watt learned towards the end of his stay in Mr Knott’s house to accept that nothing had happened, that a nothing had happened, learned to bear it and even, in a shy way, to like it.’
Archive for October, 2007
‘So Watt saw little of Mr. Knott. For Mr. Knott was seldom on the ground floor, unless it was to eat a meal, in the dining room, or to pass through it, on his way to and from the garden. And Watt was seldom on the first floor, unless it was when he came down to begin his day, in the morning, and then again at evening, when he went up to begin his night.’
‘This fugitive penetration took place shortly after Watt’s arrival. On his answering the door, as his habit was, when there was a knock on the door, he found standing before it, or so he realised later, arm in arm, an old man and a middle-aged man. The latter said: We are the Galls, father and son, and we are come, what is more, all the way from town, to choon the piano.’
“But to go into this matter as longly and as deeply and as fully as I should like, and it deserves is unfortunately out of the question. Not that space is wanting, for space is not wanting. Not that time is lacking, for time is not lacking. But I hear a little wind come and go, come and go, in the bushes without, and in the henhouse the cock in his sleep uneasily stirs….
For it was really day again already, in some low distant quarter of the sky, it was not yet day again already in the kitchen.”