Maudie kissed them, found out their names, made a fuss of them generally, and gave them tea.
She was alone for a moment with the eldest girl.
'Say, mum,' said the latter, 'I'm no kid, and I can see that we weren't brought here only to be pretty artist's models. Now, I'm game for anything, and I expect the others will be. They can't read or write, so I'll do the writing home to their mammas; that'll be best, won't it?'
It certainly was sensible, and Maudie was very glad. There had been times when she had been a bit nervous.
Likewise, which was very awkward, there was a little disaffection in the camp. May had fallen frankly and openly in love with Charlie, and was obviously jealous. Charlie did not reciprocate, but Maudie could not afford to have a split, and had almost to beg of him to afford her occasional embraces. If May chose to give things away in the outside world, it might be very unpleasant. They were always prepared for flight, motors in readiness, and a big steam yacht, but they did not want to have to fly.
Charlie and Tubby went down to the 'office' or studio. General Fitzhugh was tramping round the room, fiercely twisting his moustache, and ejaculating, 'Ra!' at intervals, as he spotted anything particularly tasty in the photographs.
Tubby's undergraduate friend sat meekly, rather uneasily, on a divan, and the poet wandered soulfully about, humming faintly.
'Ah, general,' said the poet to the old officer, who was very closely examining the life-size portrait of a fascinating young lady, which gave particular emphasis to her vagina, 'ah, general, a tempting subject:
How sweeter than the horrid clash of arms, The contemplation of those naked charms.'
The general sniffed: he did not like poetry, or poets. 'A dashed fine young woman, sir,' he snorted.
The poet persisted: 'Dost thou not yearn, O son of Mars, to thrust The vibrant signal of a lusting man Into yon fragrant arbour, there to place In form of sperm ambrosial, a fair child?
Dost thou not-'
But the general turned on him. 'I don't know what the hell you mean, sir, by all that tomfool nonsense, but if you've the accursed effrontery to call my cock a 'vibrant signal', I'd have you know that the word cock has been good enough for the Fitzhughs for generations, sir. 'Vibrant signal', indeed, you'll be calling my arsehole a railway tunnel next.'
'Oh, sir,' protested the poet, 'tis but poetic licence.'
'Then you ought to dashed well have your licence taken away and, look here, if by 'fragrant arbour' you mean that young person's cunt, I'd have you know that the Fitzhughs call it cunt, sir, and always have. My father called it cunt, my mother had a cunt, I came out of a cunt, and many a cunt have I stuck my good cock into.
'''Fragrant arbour'! there's a damned good stink attached to some of them, and I like it.
'And don't you refer to my good spunk as 'ambrosial sperm', or I'll toss myself off in your eye, and let you know whether it smells ambrosial or not.'
Tubby, overhearing, laughed aloud.
Directly afterwards, Maudie, followed by her flapper recruits, entered. The girls stared about them in amazement, all save the eldest, who frankly grinned, and returned the old general's ogle with interest.
Elsie entered with a friend of Maudie's, a middle-aged, Anglo-French woman, whom we have not met before in this narrative.
She was a Madame Rade, and had been an actress. Still the amount of money she had made, not at acting, had enabled her to consult her growing corpulence and retire.
She was a jolly woman, very sexy, and there was very little wickedness she was not up to, and expert at. It was she who had taught Maudie the art of the 'thrill fuck'.
With her came her adopted niece, a very typical French flapper. Her skirts were short and plaid, her boots, on her slight, delicate legs, were very high and elegant, and her rather long hair fell in two plaits down her back.
Madame was educating her for the stage, equally for a life of smart prostitution, and she was having her taught several languages.
'I have seen so much money lost by charming tarts,' she said, 'just because they could not talk any language but their own. After all, fucking is very nice indeed, but a man does like a little love chat, and a student of nature does like to be interested. There's one new brothel in Berlin where the girls have regular lessons every day.
'Those girls do score over the lassies whose conversation is limited to phrases such as, 'You fuck my cat: oh, such a nice cat, only ten franc.''
Madame Rade had not let the girl go wrong yet; she wanted a big price for that precious virginity, but there was nothing the little darling didn't know. Her greeting kiss to Charlie was by no manner of means virginal.
Maudie had explained to the girls that the studies would be in the nude, and that they mustn't mind being inspected by quite a number of artists.
The assembled men were introduced as artists, and then one of the girls was told to undress. She rather timidly asked if she was to do it there, or was there a screen.
'Here, of course, darling,' said Maudie; 'you'll soon get used to that. Never mind your shoes and stockings this time. We only want to see the upper part of your figure now, so that we can tell what sort of picture you'll do for.'
Charlie had bought very pretty underlinen indeed, and as the upper garments slid away the little darling was a scrumptious sight. The poet sighed voluptuously. He was about to burst into song, when he caught the general's eye.
'Oh, one thing,' said Maudie; 'I forgot, dearie; have you any hair on your body?'
'Yes, a little, mum,' she replied.
'I'm afraid, then, dear, that you must let that be shaved off.
You see, all our pictures here are without hair. It won't hurt you: don't be frightened, and this gentleman,' pointing to Tubby, 'is quite an expert, aren't you, Tub-Tub?'
Tubby grinned; he had been examining the ingenious razors which Charlie had brought from Sheffield: no wonder the good Messrs Rogers had been surprised. They were in several shapes, and no steady hand could do any possible harm.
'Oh, yes, it must be done,' said Maudie, as the girl stood naked with a sea of frou-frou undies round her ankles. The poet could not resist it: 'Child Venus rising from the sea, No crested waves could fairer be Than those sweet frills:
Oh, daintier than-'
'Young man,' said the general, very severely, 'during the Mutiny I had men blown from the cannon's mouth for less than that.'
Maudie patted the blushing girl on her naked shoulder, and led her to a big chair, with a front extension, something like a dentist's.
She lay back, her bottom raised on a cushion, her legs wide apart.
Tubby approached with his tray of instruments. The poor girl shuddered, and involuntarily closed her legs.
This was too much for the poet. Waving his hand first towards the girl, and then the general, he declaimed: 'Back, ruthless youth, oh, spare, oh, spare, I crave, That down ethereal. Can'st thou dare to shave The rippling foliage of the Venus Hill?
Turn rather HERE, and thy vandal will On this brave warrior, used to clash of steel, HIS manly forest clip-'
'By God, damme, sir,' roared the general, 'if anyone dares to lay one finger on my bush, I'll cut off his cock and balls, and make him eat 'em, damme, I will.'
Before the poet could answer, a small voice chirped up: 'There once was a general brave Who refused his cock whiskers to shave, Till the crabs that he got Made him clip off the lot, And didn't that general rave.'
It was the young Cambridge undergraduate: the first words he had spoken.
The general did rave.
'Crabs, sir, crabs, you insolent puppy! Look here, sir,' and he ripped open his trousers, showing a flabby penis, fringed with grey-white hair; 'crabs, sir, I'll give you a thousand pounds if you can find one. '
'Oh, la! la!' ejaculated Madame Rade.
'1 apologise: I apologise, ladies,' said the general hastily. 'I had forgotten your presence.'
He put back his penis.
The young man said he had meant no offence, and giggled feebly.
