Halliday was coming back, looking forlorn and sick.
'Pussum,' he said, 'I wish you wouldn't do these things--Oh!' He sank
in his chair with a groan.
'You'd better go home,' she said to him.
'I WILL go home,' he said. 'But won't you all come along. Won't you
come round to the flat?' he said to Gerald. 'I should be so glad if you
would. Do--that'll be splendid. I say?' He looked round for a waiter.
'Get me a taxi.' Then he groaned again. 'Oh I do feel--perfectly
ghastly! Pussum, you see what you do to me.'
'Then why are you such an idiot?' she said with sullen calm.
'But I'm not an idiot! Oh, how awful! Do come, everybody, it will be so
splendid. Pussum, you are coming. What? Oh but you MUST come, yes, you
must. What? Oh, my dear girl, don't make a fuss now, I feel
perfectly--Oh, it's so ghastly--Ho!--er! Oh!'
'You know you can't drink,' she said to him, coldly.
'I tell you it isn't drink--it's your disgusting behaviour, Pussum,
it's nothing else. Oh, how awful! Libidnikov, do let us go.
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