'
'I don't know,' said Gerald, after a pause, 'that he does insult the
Pussum so very much. She strikes me as being rather foul.'
'But I thought you liked her,' exclaimed Birkin. 'I always felt fond of
her. I never had anything to do with her, personally, that's true.'
'I liked her all right, for a couple of days,' said Gerald. 'But a week
of her would have turned me over. There's a certain smell about the
skin of those women, that in the end is sickening beyond words--even if
you like it at first.'
'I know,' said Birkin. Then he added, rather fretfully, 'But go to bed,
Gerald. God knows what time it is.'
Gerald looked at his watch, and at length rose off the bed, and went to
his room. But he returned in a few minutes, in his shirt.
'One thing,' he said, seating himself on the bed again. 'We finished up
rather stormily, and I never had time to give her anything.'
'Money?' said Birkin. 'She'll get what she wants from Halliday or from
one of her acquaintances.'
'But then,' said Gerald, 'I'd rather give her her dues and settle the
account.
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