Gudrun watched Gerald. She watched his eyes linger a moment on
Halliday, on Halliday's party. These last were on the look-out--they
nodded to him, he nodded again. They giggled and whispered among
themselves. Gerald watched them with the steady twinkle in his eyes.
They were urging the Pussum to something.
She at last rose. She was wearing a curious dress of dark silk splashed
and spattered with different colours, a curious motley effect. She was
thinner, her eyes were perhaps hotter, more disintegrated. Otherwise
she was just the same. Gerald watched her with the same steady twinkle
in his eyes as she came across. She held out her thin brown hand to
him.
'How are you?' she said.
He shook hands with her, but remained seated, and let her stand near
him, against the table. She nodded blackly to Gudrun, whom she did not
know to speak to, but well enough by sight and reputation.
'I am very well,' said Gerald. 'And you?'
'Oh I'm all wight. What about Wupert?'
'Rupert? He's very well, too.
Pages:
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789