fair young man, stylishly dressed, blushed to the eyes and bowed very low.

It was over.

‘Herr Loerke was giving us a recitation in the Cologne dialect,’ said the Professor.

‘He must forgive us for interrupting him,’ said Gerald, ‘we should like very much to hear it.’

There was instantly a bowing and an offering of seats. Gudrun and Ursula, Gerald and Birkin sat in the deep sofas against the wall. The room was of naked oiled panelling, like the rest of the house. It had a piano, sofas and chairs, and a couple of tables with books and magazines. In its complete absence of decoration, save for the big, blue stove, it was cosy and pleasant.

Herr Loerke was the little man with the boyish figure, and the round, full, sensitive-looking head, and the quick, full eyes, like a mouse’s.