'What?' they heard his voice. 'What? What do you say? Tell me again.
What? Want money? Want MORE money? But what do you want money for?'
There was the confused sound of the Hindu's talking, then Halliday
appeared in the room, smiling also foolishly, and saying:

'He says he wants money to buy underclothing. Can anybody lend me a
shilling? Oh thanks, a shilling will do to buy all the underclothes he
wants.' He took the money from Gerald and went out into the passage
again, where they heard him saying, 'You can't want more money, you had
three and six yesterday. You mustn't ask for any more. Bring the tea in
quickly.'

Gerald looked round the room. It was an ordinary London sitting-room in
a flat, evidently taken furnished, rather common and ugly. But there
were several negro statues, wood-carvings from West Africa, strange and
disturbing, the carved negroes looked almost like the foetus of a human
being. One was a woman sitting naked in a strange posture, and looking
tortured, her abdomen stuck out. The young Russian explained that she
was sitting in child-birth, clutching the ends of the band that hung
from her neck, one in each hand, so that she could bear down, and help
labour. The strange, transfixed, rudimentary face of the woman again
reminded Gerald of a foetus, it was also rather wonderful, conveying
the suggestion of the extreme of physical sensation, beyond the limits
of mental consciousness.

'Aren't they rather obscene?' he asked, disapproving.

'I don't know,' murmured the other rapidly. 'I have never defined the
obscene. I think they are very good.'