me to Zurich, then, before very long, ran under the mountains, that
were deep in snow. At last she was drawing near. This was the other
world now.

Innsbruck was wonderful, deep in snow, and evening. They drove in an
open sledge over the snow: the train had been so hot and stifling. And
the hotel, with the golden light glowing under the porch, seemed like a
home.

They laughed with pleasure when they were in the hall. The place seemed
full and busy.

'Do you know if Mr and Mrs Crich--English--from Paris, have arrived?'
Birkin asked in German.

The porter reflected a moment, and was just going to answer, when
Ursula caught sight of Gudrun sauntering down the stairs, wearing her
dark glossy coat, with grey fur.

'Gudrun! Gudrun!' she called, waving up the well of the staircase.
'Shu-hu!'

Gudrun looked over the rail, and immediately lost her sauntering,
diffident air. Her eyes flashed.

'Really--Ursula!' she cried. And she began to move downstairs as Ursula
ran up. They met at a turn and kissed with laughter and exclamations
inarticulate and stirring.

'But!' cried Gudrun, mortified. 'We thought it was TOMORROW you were
coming! I wanted to come to the station.'

'No, we've come today!' cried Ursula. 'Isn't it lovely here!'

'Adorable!' said Gudrun. 'Gerald's just gone out to get something.
Ursula, aren't you FEARFULLY tired?'

'No, not so very. But I look a filthy sight, don't I!'

'No, you don't. You look almost perfectly fresh. I like that fur cap
IMMENSELY!' She glanced over Ursula, who wore a big soft coat with a
collar of deep, soft, blond fur, and a soft blond cap of fur.

'And you!' cried Ursula. 'What do you think YOU look like!'

Gudrun assumed an unconcerned, expressionless face.

'Do you like it?' she said.

'It's VERY fine!' cried Ursula, perhaps with a touch of satire.

'Go up--or come down,' said Birkin. For there the sisters stood, Gudrun
with her hand on Ursula's arm, on the turn of the stairs half way to
the first landing, blocking the way and affording full entertainment to
the whole of the hall below, from the door porter to the plump Jew in
black clothes.

The two young women slowly mounted, followed by Birkin and the waiter.

'First floor?' asked Gudrun, looking back over her shoulder.

'Second Madam--the lift!' the waiter replied. And he darted to the
elevator to forestall the two women. But they ignored him, as,
chattering without heed, they set to mount the second flight.