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 so strongly, as she sat there quiet and
withheld, that another set of conditions altogether had come to pass.
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