In an instant he snuffed glamour and magic.
They had all their things very dainty, two odd and lovely little cups,
scarlet and solid gilt, and a little black jug with scarlet discs, and
the curious coffee-machine, whose spirit-flame flowed steadily, almost
invisibly. There was the effect of rather sinister richness, in which
Gerald at once escaped himself.
They all sat down, and Gudrun carefully poured out the coffee.
'Will you have milk?' she asked calmly, yet nervously poising the
little black jug with its big red dots. She was always so completely
controlled, yet so bitterly nervous.
'No, I won't,' he replied.
So, with a curious humility, she placed him the little cup of coffee,
and herself took the awkward tumbler. She seemed to want to serve him.
'Why don't you give me the glass--it is so clumsy for you,' he said. He
would much rather have had it, and seen her daintily served. But she
was silent, pleased with the disparity, with her self-abasement.
'You are quite EN MENAGE,' he said.
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