ld and Gudrun sat in the
corner next them, near to the stove. It was a fairly large place, with
a tiny bar, just like a country inn, but quite simple and bare, and all
of oiled wood, ceilings and walls and floor, the only furniture being
the tables and benches going round three sides, the great green stove,
and the bar and the doors on the fourth side. The windows were double,
and quite uncurtained. It was early evening.

The coffee came--hot and good--and a whole ring of cake.

'A whole Kuchen!' cried Ursula. 'They give you more than us! I want
some of yours.'

There were other people in the place, ten altogether, so Birkin had
found out: two artists, three students, a man and wife, and a Professor
and two daughters--all Germans. The four English people, being
newcomers, sat in their coign of vantage to watch. The Germans peeped
in at the door, called a word to the waiter, and went away again. It
was not meal-time, so they did not come into this dining-room, but
betook themselves, when their boots were changed, to the Reunionsaal.

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
p