The English visitors could hear the occasional twanging of a zither, the strumming of a piano, snatches of laughter and shouting and singing, a faint vibration of voices.The whole building being of wood, it seemed to carry every sound, like a drum, but instead of increasing each particular noise, it decreased it, so that the sound of the zither seemed tiny, as if a diminutive zither were playing somewhere, and it seemed the piano must be a small one, like a little spinet.
The host came when the coffee was finished.He was a Tyrolese, broad, rather flat-cheeked, with a pale, pock-marked skin and flourishing moustaches.
`Would you like to go to the Reunionsaal to be introduced to the other ladies and gentlemen?' he asked, bending forward and smiling, showing his large, strong teeth.His blue eyes went quickly from one to the other --he was not quite sure of his ground with these English people.He was unhappy too because he spoke no English and he was not sure whether to try his French.
`Shall we go to the Reunionsaal, and be introduced to the other people?'
repeated Gerald, laughing.
There was a moment's hesitation.
`I suppose we'd better -- better break the ice,' said Birkin.
The women rose, rather flushed.And the Wirt's black, beetle-like, broad-shouldered figure went on ignominiously in front, towards the noise.He opened the door and ushered the four strangers into the play-room.
Instantly a silence fell, a slight embarrassment came over the company.
The newcomers had a sense of many blond faces looking their way.Then, the host was bowing to a short, energetic-looking man with large moustaches, and saying in a low voice:
`Herr Professor, darf ich vorstellen--'
The Herr Professor was prompt and energetic.He bowed low to the English people, smiling, and began to be a comrade at once.
`Nehmen die Herrschaften teil an unserer Unterhaltung?' he said, with a vigorous suavity, his voice curling up in the question.
The four English people smiled, lounging with an attentive uneasiness in the middle of the room.Gerald, who was spokesman, said that they would willingly take part in the entertainment.Gudrun and Ursula, laughing, excited, felt the eyes of all the men upon them, and they lifted their heads and looked nowhere, and felt royal.
The Professor announced the names of those present, sans ceremonie.There was a bowing to the wrong people and to the right people.Everybody was there, except the man and wife.The two tall, clear-skinned, athletic daughters of the professor, with their plain-cut, dark blue blouses and loden skirts, their rather long, strong necks, their clear blue eyes and carefully banded hair, and their blushes, bowed and stood back; the three students bowed very low, in the humble hope of ****** an impression of extreme good-breeding; then there was a thin, dark-skinned man with full eyes, an odd creature, like a child, and like a troll, quick, detached;he bowed slightly; his companion, a large fair young man, stylishly dressed, blushed to the eyes and bowed very low.
It was over.
`Herr Loerke was giving us a recitation in the Cologne dialect,' said the Professor.
`He must forgive us for interrupting him,' said Gerald, `we should like very much to hear it.'
There was instantly a bowing and an offering of seats.Gudrun and Ursula, Gerald and Birkin sat in the deep sofas against the wall.The room was of naked oiled panelling, like the rest of the house.It had a piano, sofas and chairs, and a couple of tables with books and magazines.In its complete absence of decoration, save for the big, blue stove, it was cosy and pleasant.
Herr Loerke was the little man with the boyish figure, and the round, full, sensitive-looking head, and the quick, full eyes, like a mouse's.
He glanced swiftly from one to the other of the strangers, and held himself aloof.
`Please go on with the recitation,' said the Professor, suavely, with his slight authority.Loerke, who was sitting hunched on the piano stool, blinked and did not answer.
`It would be a great pleasure,' said Ursula, who had been getting the sentence ready, in German, for some minutes.
Then, suddenly, the small, unresponding man swung aside, towards his previous audience and broke forth, exactly as he had broken off; in a controlled, mocking voice, giving an imitation of a quarrel between an old Cologne woman and a railway guard.
His body was slight and unformed, like a boy's, but his voice was mature, sardonic, its movement had the flexibility of essential energy, and of a mocking penetrating understanding.Gudrun could not understand a word of his monologue, but she was spell-bound, watching him.He must be an artist, nobody else could have such fine adjustment and singleness.The Germans were doubled up with laughter, hearing his strange droll words, his droll phrases of dialect.And in the midst of their paroxysms, they glanced with deference at the four English strangers, the elect.Gudrun and Ursula were forced to laugh.The room rang with shouts of laughter.
The blue eyes of the Professor's daughters were swimming over with laughter-tears, their clear cheeks were flushed crimson with mirth, their father broke out in the most astonishing peals of hilarity, the students bowed their heads on their knees in excess of joy.Ursula looked round amazed, the laughter was bubbling out of her involuntarily.She looked at Gudrun.Gudrun looked at her, and the two sisters burst out laughing, carried away.Loerke glanced at them swiftly, with his full eyes.Birkin was sniggering involuntarily.
Gerald Crich sat erect, with a glistening look of amusement on his face.
