She pulled her brother on, saying with furious effort of will, “I’m sure we’re much obliged for your present——”
“I had forgotten that,” Morning said.
“We’re going to take in the show,” the boy remarked, drawing back. At large, thus, he was much better to look upon.
“Come on, Charley—we mustn’t detain——”
Morning had an idea, and looked at the sister as he said, “Won’t you have supper with me somewhere? I have nothing——”
Her face was livid—as if all the fears of a lifetime had culminated into the dreadful impendings of this moment. She tried to speak.... Then it came to Morning in a belated way that she thought she was accosted; that she connected his gift with this meeting. He couldn’t let her go now—and yet, it was hard for him to know what to say.
“I mean we three,” he began hastily. “This play being refused rather knocked me out, and I didn’t know what to do with the evening. I don’t live in New York, you know. I thought you and your brother—that we might have supper together——”
He spoke on desperately, trying to stir to life the little magpie sharpness again. It was more to her brother she yielded. New York must have frightened her terribly.... Morning managed to get down to the pair that night. He was clumsy at it, however, for it was a new emprise. Mostly John Morning had been wrapped and sealed in his own ideas. The boy was won with the first tales of war, but the sister remained apart with her terrors. No one had taught her that kindness may be a motive in itself.
And now Morning was coping with what seemed a real idea: What was the quality of the switch-board that harnessed her character? Here she was wild and disordered—like a creature denied her drug. With that mystic rumble of angry New York in her ears—the essential buzz of a million desires passing through her—she was a force, flying and valuable force. Was she lain open to obsession now because she was removed from that slavery? Was that maddening vibration the lost key to her poise?
He tried hard, not daring to be attentive in the least. She would have fled, if he had. He was boyishly kind to her brother. That awed, and was beginning to hold her.