*

Alex leaned on his lectern, trying to sound professorial. "Come on. We have to proceed. Come now. Review is important. Who can tell me what rank Mellors held in the army?"

The students shifted in their chairs. A few made no pretense of interest and slept. Holly Dish glanced at her watch, bored, but knew she had to make a good impression. She raised her hand.

Alex nodded.

"Indian," Holly announced.

"Indian?"

Holly repeated herself, then looked at her classmates. Several were laughing. Damn, she thought, he asked what rank, not what army.

"He was an officer," Holly nearly shouted.

"Good," Alex said. "As long as we're on it, what nation?"

More shifting in chairs.

Edward Head rolled his eyes. He waited for someone to answer. Finally, almost wearily, he spoke. "Mellors was an Officer in the Indian army. And as long as we're on it, his father was a miner, just like Lawrence's."

Deciding that only Edward had read the novel carefully, Alex continued with his lecture, often turning to his notes. Whenever he lectured, Alex was grateful that his secretary, Mrs. Mathews, was well organized. She kept all his notes on file. They were cross-indexed by title, genre, and author.

Alex wanted to discuss the novel's groundbreaking eroticism, but he ran out of time. "Let's break it off now. Next time, we'll talk about the real reason the book is famous."

A few students smiled.

As Jimmy Stubbs watched Holly walk out of the room, he stifled a lust driven groan. She was wearing a skirt today.

Jimmy's unabashed stare amused Alex. The little guy wants to wrestle her, Alex thought, and she'd pin him in ten seconds. Edward was watching Holly, too. But he was sly. He fumbled with his books and stole glances at Holly's buttocks, coiled under her skirt.

With Holly gone, Edward smiled awkwardly at his professor. Edward wanted to build rapport with the professor, but he did not know how. "I very much like Lawrence," he asserted, trying to sound scholarly.

Edward began rambling about D. H. Lawrence's home in Taos, New Mexico. Alex walked toward the door, but nodded, indicating that Edward should follow.

Alex bided his time, waiting for the sun to ease into the west. He swiveled around in his chair, rested his feet on a pile of books in the windowsill, and gazed out the window of his fourth floor office. The window offered a pleasant view of the court that separated Elmhurst Hall from the library entrance. The court featured concrete benches, scattered abstract sculptures, and a garden of perennials. A cluster of students stood chattering in