per he could have seen
two dimples; but all that was observable was the row of tiny pointed
teeth that made her smile so mischievous. Sally's eyes looked green in
the electric light--green and dark and dangerous, like deep sea; and her
pallor was enhanced, so that she was almost beautiful. There was
something both naive and cat-like in her manner, and the tilt of her
head. She surveyed Gaga with eyes that were instinctively half-closed.
She could delightedly perceive the effect she was having upon him. He
sometimes could not look at her at all, but fixed his attention upon
his plate while she was speaking, or no higher than her neck when he was
himself--as he rarely did--making an attempt to entertain. And all
Gaga's hesitations and shynesses made Sally amused and sure of herself,
and she began to take pleasure in dominating him. When she found that
Gaga not only did not resent this, but was pleased and thrilled by her
domination, Sally grew triumphant. She chose the sweet for them both,
sweeping her eye down the prices and listening to the waiter's
translation of each title. She sipped her wine with a royal air of
connoisseurship. And she kept such control of the situation that Gaga
was afraid to give words to the timid ardour which shone from his
expressive glance. Sally was herself: it was still she who conferred
every favour, and not Gaga.

Presently she had a thought that whipped across her mind like a sting.

"D'you know what I've been doing since we came here before?" she
demanded. "I've been taking lessons in book-keeping. I'm getting on
fine. The teacher says I've got a proper head for figures. He says I
shall be a cashier in no time, and understand all that you can know
about accounts. Isn't that good? So I shall be able to help you--like
you said...."

Gaga gave an admiring gesture. He was overwhelmed.

"Oh, but you're ... marvellous!" he cried. "Simply marvellous! Here's
Miss Summers says you're the best hand, for your age, that she's
got...."

"Did she say that?" Sally jumped for joy. "Really?" She gave a
triumphant laugh, so naive and full of ingenuous conceitedness that Gaga
was overcome afresh with admiration.

"You ought to have been two people," he answered. "Two little girls."

"Half a dozen!" Sally proclaimed. "You see, I'm--it sounds conceited,
and I expect I am; but it's true-- I'm clever. I'm not soppy. Other
girls-- Rose Anstey.... They're soppy. They can't do anything. I can do
all sort