They went back to the house, to the Reunionsaal. She was curious to see
what was going on. The men there made her alert, roused her curiosity.
It was a new taste of life for her, they were so prostrate before her,
yet so full of life.
The party was boisterous; they were dancing all together, dancing the
Schuhplatteln, the Tyrolese dance of the clapping hands and tossing the
partner in the air at the crisis. The Germans were all proficient--they
were from Munich chiefly. Gerald also was quite passable. There were
three zithers twanging away in a corner. It was a scene of great
animation and confusion. The Professor was initiating Ursula into the
dance, stamping, clapping, and swinging her high, with amazing force
and zest. When the crisis came even Birkin was behaving manfully with
one of the Professor's fresh, strong daughters, who was exceedingly
happy. Everybody was dancing, there was the most boisterous turmoil.
Gudrun looked on with delight. The solid wooden floor resounded to the
knocking heels of the men, the air quivered with the clapping hands and
the zither music, there was a golden dust about the hanging lamps.
Suddenly the dance finished, Loerke and the students rushed out to
bring in drinks. There was an excited clamour of voices, a clinking of
mug-lids, a great crying of 'Prosit--Prosit!' Loerke was everywhere at
once, like a gnome, suggesting drinks for the women, making an obscure,
slightly risky joke with the men, confusing and mystifying the waiter.
He wanted very much to dance with Gudrun. From the first moment he had
seen her, he wanted to make a connection with her. Instinctively she
felt this, and she waited for him to come up. But a kind of sulkiness
kept him away from her, so she thought he disliked her.
'Will you schuhplatteln, gnadige Frau?' said the large, fair youth,
Loerke's companion. He was too soft, too humble for Gudrun's taste. But
she wanted to dance, and the fair youth, who was called Leitner, was
handsome enough in his uneasy, slightly abject fashion, a humility that
covered a certain fear. She accepted him as a partner.
The zithers sounded out again, the dance began. Gerald led them,
laughing, with one of the Professor's daughters. Ursula danced with one
of the students, Birkin with the other daughter of the Professor, the
Professor with Frau Kramer, and the rest of the men danced together,
with quite as much zest as if they had had women partners.
Because Gudrun had danced with the well-built, soft youth, his
companion, Loerke, was more pettish and exasperated than ever, and
would not even notice her existence in the room. This piqued her, but
she made up to herself by dancing with the Professor, who was strong as
a mature, well-seasoned bull, and as full of coarse energy. She could
not bear him, critically, and yet she enjoyed being rushed through the
dance, and tossed up into the air, on his coarse, powerful impetus. The
Professor enjoyed it too, he eyed her with strange, large blue eyes,
full of galvanic fire. She hated him for the seasoned, semi-paternal
animalism with which he regarded her, but she admired his weight of
strength.