la.

'Oh leider, leider!' cried the Professor.

'You couldn't understand it?' cried the Students, let loose at last in
speech with the newcomers. 'Ja, das ist wirklich schade, das ist
schade, gnadige Frau. Wissen Sie--'

The mixture was made, the newcomers were stirred into the party, like
new ingredients, the whole room was alive. Gerald was in his element,
he talked freely and excitedly, his face glistened with a strange
amusement. Perhaps even Birkin, in the end, would break forth. He was
shy and withheld, though full of attention.

Ursula was prevailed upon to sing 'Annie Lowrie,' as the Professor
called it. There was a hush of EXTREME deference. She had never been so
flattered in her life. Gudrun accompanied her on the piano, playing
from memory.

Ursula had a beautiful ringing voice, but usually no confidence, she
spoiled everything. This evening she felt conceited and untrammelled.
Birkin was well in the background, she shone almost in reaction, the
Germans made her feel fine and infallible, she was liberated into
overweening self-confidence. She felt like a bird flying in the air, as
her voice soared out, enjoying herself extremely in the balance and
flight of the song, like the motion of a bird's wings that is up in the
wind, sliding and playing on the air, she played with sentimentality,
supported by rapturous attention. She was very happy, singing that song
by herself, full of a conceit of emotion and power, working upon all
those people, and upon herself, exerting herself with gratification,
giving immeasurable gratification to the Germans.

At the end, the Germans were all touched with admiring, delicious
melancholy, they praised her in soft, reverent voices, they could not
say too much.

'Wie schon, wie ruhrend! Ach, die Schottischen Lieder, sie haben so
viel Stimmung! Aber die gnadige Frau hat eine WUNDERBARE Stimme; die
gnadige Frau ist wirklich eine Kunstlerin, aber wirklich!'

She was dilated and brilliant, like a flower in the morning sun. She
felt Birkin looking at her, as if he were jealous of her, and her
breasts thrilled, her veins were all golden. She was as happy as the
sun that has just opened above clouds. And everybody seemed so admiring
and radiant, it was perfect.

After dinner she wanted to go out for a minute, to look at the world.
The company tried to dissuade her--it was so terribly cold. But just to
look, she said.

They all four wrapped up warmly, and found themselves in