e gasp. 'Oh, Tom, the ducks!'

Cairns laughed and, walking up to her, dropped Snoo on her lap and Poo,
snuffling ferociously, on the floor. Victoria buried her hands in Snoo's
thick coat; the dog gurgled joyfully and rolled over on its side.
Victoria laughed, muzzling Snoo with her hand.

Cairns watched the picture for, a moment. He was absurdly reminded of a
girl in Java who nursed a black marmoset against her yellow breast. And
as Victoria looked up at him, her chin now resting on Snoo's brown head,
a soft wave of scent rose towards him. He knelt down, throwing his arms
round her and the dog, gathering them both into his embrace. As his lips
met hers and clung to them, her perfume and the ranker scent of the dog
filled his nostrils, burning aphrodisiac into his brain.

Victoria freed herself gently and rose to her feet, still nursing Snoo,
and laughingly pushed him into Cairns's face.

'Kiss him,' she said, 'no favours here.'

Cairns obeyed, then picked up Poo and sat down on the couch.

'This is sweet of you, Tom,' said Victoria. 'They _are_ lovebirds.'

'I'm glad you like them; this is Poo I'm holding, yours is Snoo.'

'Odd names,' said Victoria.

'Chinese according to the dealer,' said Cairns, 'but I don't pretend to
know what they mean.'

'Never mind,' said Victoria, 'they're lovebirds, and so are you, Tom.'

Cairns looked at her silently, at her full erect figure and smiling
eyes. He was a lucky beggar, a damned lucky beggar.

'And what is this bribe for?' she asked.

'Oh, nothing. Knew you'd like them, beastly tempers and as game as mice.
Women's dogs, you know.'

'Generalising again, Tom. Besides I hate mice.'

Cairns drew her down by his side on the couch. Everything in this woman
interested and stimulated him. She was always fresh, always young. The
touch of her hand, the smell of her hair, the feel of her skirts winding
round his ankles, all that was magic; every little act of hers was a
taking of possession. Every time he mirrored his face in her eyes and
saw the eyelids slowly veil and unveil them, something like love crept
into his soul. But every passionate embrace left him weak and almost
repelled. She was his property; he had paid for her; and, insistent
thought, what would she have done if he had not been rich?

Half an hour passed away. Victoria lay passive in his arms. Snoo and
Poo, piled in a heap, were snuffling drowsily. There was a ring at the
front door, then a slam. They coul