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