erson, without
hope of understanding, only submitting.

He kissed her, kissed her eyes shut, so that she could not look any
more. He wanted something now, some recognition, some sign, some
admission. But she only lay silent and child-like and remote, like a
child that is overcome and cannot understand, only feels lost. He
kissed her again, giving up.

'Shall we go down and have coffee and Kuchen?' he asked.

The twilight was falling slate-blue at the window. She closed her eyes,
closed away the monotonous level of dead wonder, and opened them again
to the every-day world.

'Yes,' she said briefly, regaining her will with a click. She went
again to the window. Blue evening had fallen over the cradle of snow
and over the great pallid slopes. But in the heaven the peaks of snow
were rosy, glistening like transcendent, radiant spikes of blossom in
the heavenly upper-world, so lovely and beyond.

Gudrun saw all their loveliness, she KNEW how immortally beautiful they
were, great pistils of rose-coloured, snow-fed fire in the blue
twilight of the heaven. She could SEE it, she knew it, but she was not
of it. She was divorced, debarred, a soul shut out.

With a last look of remorse, she turned away, and was doing her hair.
He had unstrapped the luggage, and was waiting, watching her. She knew
he was watching her. It made her a little hasty and feverish in her
precipitation.

They went downstairs, both with a strange other-world look on their
faces, and with a glow in their eyes. They saw Birkin and Ursula
sitting at the long table in a corner, waiting for them.

'How good and simple they look together,' Gudrun thought, jealously.
She envied them some spontaneity, a childish sufficiency to which she
herself could never approach. They seemed such children to her.

'Such good Kranzkuchen!' cried Ursula greedily. 'So good!'

'Right,' said Gudrun. 'Can we have Kaffee mit Kranzkuchen?' she added
to the waiter.

And she seated herself on the bench beside Gerald. Birkin, looking at
them, felt a pain of tenderness for them.

'I think the place is really wonderful, Gerald,' he said; 'prachtvoll
and wunderbar and wunderschon and unbeschreiblich and all the other
German adjectives.'

Gerald broke into a slight smile.

'I like it,' he said.

The tables, of white scrubbed wood, were placed round three sides of
the room, as in a Gasthaus. Birkin and Ursula sat with their backs to
the wall, which was of oiled wood, and Gera