"What, never naughty?" His face was full of incredulity.
And so the meal progressed, and the friendship was enhanced by every piece of observation which either of them directed at the other. Seen close at hand, as Patricia knew already, Harry had all the attractiveness which belongs to good health and physical vigour. All his movements were definite, his eyes were clear and his glances assured. His hair was crisp, his colour good, his frame large and impressively well-knit. He had played forward for the Harlequins, in a pack that was both heavy and quick, a team that owed its triumphs not only to great generalship but also to the speedy adroitness of its individual members. And in spite of his years Harry was still a man of sure and rapid action. At all points he charmed Patricia.
Patricia charmed him no less. That which in him was quick and vivid found its counterpart in her. If they had had nothing intellectually in common, still their proximity would have brought happiness to both. But in addition Patricia was nimble of wit, and intrigued Harry's interest in that respect also. She was as quick as he was, and sometimes she was quicker than he. Harry could see the play of expression upon her face during the whole time that he was talking, and the play showed that she had no mental inertia, and no single inability to comprehend the meaning of all he said. Harry was quite used to the skill with which a more ignorant girl would manifest understanding of which she was incapable. He knew that in Patricia's case it was the real thing. So speaking a face could not deceive. And perhaps he did moreover "receive fair speechless messages" which increased his ardour and his already dominating confidence. He was very happy. They both were very happy, and their happiness added lustre to the beauty of both.
iv
"Where are we going after dinner?" Patricia demanded suddenly. She had declined a liqueur, and was finishing her last cigarette. Already the restaurant was half-empty of those diners who had proceeded to theatres. The remainder sat on, talking. She could see the two highly bred women of the lounge in the company of two glossy-haired men in evening dress. Neither man, she recognised with satisfaction, could compare with her own escort. And so the manner of her inquiry had been complaisant as well as calm.
"It's for you." Harry set down his liqueur glass. "The Queensford's the more genteel; and there's a better band at Topping's. Floor's about the same at both. The Queensford's larger."
"Is Topping's low?" she sparkled. "Let's be low."
"Right." He called the waiter.
"If it's not far, let's walk there," said Patricia. "It's such a beautiful night."
The mirror at her side gave back a reflection of what she knew to be an excited and even slightly flushed face. But she could not fail to be charmed by her own prettiness as she rose and went towards the door with Harry. The refined ladies and their escorts abandoned conversation as Patricia passed, which gave her further satisfaction. She knew that they could none of them withhold curiosity and perhaps admiration. Well, wasn't that quite pleasant to Patricia? She had no fault to find with her situation.