ide from any glance of her sleeping mother the
gleeful smile which had made her face radiant. She had been kissed
because she had encouraged Gaga to kiss her; but he was so timid that he
would never have done it if he had not very greatly desired to kiss her.
She wondered what he thought about her. He talked of their being
"friends"; he was half silly about her; he had kissed her and had wanted
to kiss her again. Having begun, he would want to go on kissing her. And
then, what? He would be afraid to kiss her at their next meeting; but he
would all the time be watching his opportunity to do so. Was Sally going
to give him his opportunity? Was she going to give him the confidence
necessary for the task of using his opportunity? She was still gay,
still amused and self-confident; but there was a doubt in her eyes. She
wanted to know more. She wanted to know all that was still hidden from
her. All the same, during the whole of her questioning of Gaga's
ultimate aspirations, she never once lost the consciousness that the
next step lay with herself. Was she going to give him that necessary
confidence?

"Oh, I think so," thought Sally, deliberately; and smiled almost to
laughter as she lay with her face upon the pillow and was aware of the
whole of her warm body, from the tip of her nose to her round heels and
the eager fingers bunched close to her breast. "I think so...." she
repeated, with more humorousness. She had a vision of Gaga with his
chocolate eyes glowing into her own as the result of the wine and his
proximity to herself. She saw his thin lips stretched, and the faint red
under his grey cheeks, and his thin hair. She felt his lips clumsily
kissing her ear, the nervous clutching of his arms. Sally was pleased.
She knew that sleep was almost upon her, and heard Mrs. Minto's deep
breathing a foot away from the back of her head. Yawningly, she snuggled
more comfortably into her pillow, and as consciousness slipped away a
distant murmur seemed to repeat: "Yes ... yes.... I ... think so." In a
mood of expectant triumph she slept, sure for the moment of the course
of future events.

xviii

All the next day Sally's nerves were on edge. She had slept heavily, and
had awakened unrefreshed. She had made her way to Madame Gala's in a
tame morning mood, once again self-distrustful, very much waiting upon
events. The sight of Nosey checking the times of arrival, and still more
the gloomy aspect of a half-empty workroom, chi