"It's a long time since I've been so funny," she said in great contentment.
"Or wasted so much time."
"Oh!" She made a rueful face. "Don't you like me to be gay?"
"I always like you. Does that satisfy you? Let's attend to business."
At dinner Theresa talked very little. She had an instinctive wisdom in the making of her half-conscious effects, a sense of fitness that rarely failed her, and having let these men feel the tug of her personality, she let go her grip, and became responsive to theirs. She dropped a word here and there, laughed when she was amused, and presented no more than an intelligent expression to jokes that bored her, and throughout the meal she watched every movement Morton made, and was sensitive to each tone of his voice. It was a full, low voice, like that of many another man, and he treated his syllables with respect. This, like his appearance, pleased her; and when he turned his dark eyes full on her, she felt a little tremor run from her feet to her throat. In his looks she read lofty and earnest aspirations and a fastidiousness of mind which made her own view of things seem coarse. She was not humble, but she put a higher value on her own opinions when he turned and asked for them with his deferential air.
At five minutes to ten Simon Smith bade Theresa put on her hat. She said good-night, and again she knew that sense of power as Mr. Smith got out of the chair that dwarfed him, and Neville stopped in his light playing of the piano and gave her his good smile, and Morton looked deeply into her eyes as he opened the door. These were courtesies that men always paid to women, but she knew she had more from them, that they gave her of their minds because she demanded the gift, and she laughed as she ran up the stairs and fastened her hat to her shining hair, and settled her coat to the lines of her slim shape.
She liked walking downstairs because there was something in the pointing of her toes that always pleased her, and to-night, because she was rejoicing in all the little skilfulnesses of her body, she went down slowly, pulling on her gloves, and, as she looked into the hall, she saw Morton looking up.
"May I be allowed to see you home?" he asked, as she touched the bottom stair.
"Please don't. I'm going in the carriage."
"I know." His words were almost a reproof. "You won't forbid me?"