more. Bring the tea in
quickly.'

Gerald looked round the room. It was an ordinary London sitting-room in
a flat, evidently taken furnished, rather common and ugly. But there
were several negro statues, wood-carvings from West Africa, strange and
disturbing, the carved negroes looked almost like the foetus of a human
being. One was a woman sitting naked in a strange posture, and looking
tortured, her abdomen stuck out. The young Russian explained that she
was sitting in child-birth, clutching the ends of the band that hung
from her neck, one in each hand, so that she could bear down, and help
labour. The strange, transfixed, rudimentary face of the woman again
reminded Gerald of a foetus, it was also rather wonderful, conveying
the suggestion of the extreme of physical sensation, beyond the limits
of mental consciousness.

'Aren't they rather obscene?' he asked, disapproving.

'I don't know,' murmured the other rapidly. 'I have never defined the
obscene. I think they are very good.'

Gerald turned away. There were one or two new pictures in the room, in
the Futurist manner; there was a large piano. And these, with some
ordinary London lodging-house furniture of the better sort, completed
the whole.

The Pussum had taken off her hat and coat, and was seated on the sofa.
She was evidently quite at home in the house, but uncertain, suspended.
She did not quite know her position. Her alliance for the time being
was with Gerald, and she did not know how far this was admitted by any
of the men. She was considering how she should carry off the situation.
She was determined to have her experience. Now, at this eleventh hour,
she was not to be baulked. Her face was flushed as with battle, her eye
was brooding but inevitable.

The man came in with tea and a bottle of Kummel. He set the tray on a
little table before the couch.

'Pussum,' said Halliday, 'pour out the tea.'

She did not move.

'Won't you do it?' Halliday repeated, in a state of nervous
apprehension.

'I've not come back here as it was before,' she said. 'I only came
because the others wanted me to, not for your sake.'

'My dear Pussum, you know you are your own mistress. I don't want you
to do anything but use the flat for your own convenience--you know it,
I've told you so many times.'

She did not reply, but silently, reservedly reached for the tea-pot.
They all sat round and drank tea. Gerald could feel the electric
connection between him and her