They drank to it gravely. Later when Paul unlocked her door for her, and turned to go on to his, she said: "Come in and talk over the party."
"Aren't you tired?"
"No. I feel as if I'd never sleep. I wish I were going on this minute, to play a new part before a Boston audience, on a rainy first night."
"That would call forth all your powers," he laughed, and followed her in. As she pulled the cord of the last lamp, she felt his eyes on her.
"Well, what do you think of me?" she challenged him.
"I think you are an inspired artist and a beautiful woman," he evaded.
She laughed at that.
"That must be an old joke," he objected.
"The whole thing is exquisitely funny: a strange man in my rooms at two in the morning compliments me on my art.... What do you want of life?" she added disconcertingly.
His tongue shaped itself in an evasive reply, but the frank, boyish interest in her face changed his mind.