Sally grinned again. If her cheeks had been plumper he could have seen two dimples; but all that was observable was the row of tiny pointed teeth that made her smile so mischievous. Sally's eyes looked green in the electric light--green and dark and dangerous, like deep sea; and her pallor was enhanced, so that she was almost beautiful. There was something both naïve and cat-like in her manner, and the tilt of her head. She surveyed Gaga with eyes that were instinctively half-closed. She could delightedly perceive the effect she was having upon him. He sometimes could not look at her at all, but fixed his attention upon his plate while she was speaking, or no higher than her neck when he was himself--as he rarely did--making an attempt to entertain. And all Gaga's hesitations and shynesses made Sally amused and sure of herself, and she began to take pleasure in dominating him. When she found that Gaga not only did not resent this, but was pleased and thrilled by her domination, Sally grew triumphant. She chose the sweet for them both, sweeping her eye down the prices and listening to the waiter's translation of each title. She sipped her wine with a royal air of connoisseurship. And she kept such control of the situation that Gaga was afraid to give words to the timid ardour which shone from his expressive glance. Sally was herself: it was still she who conferred every favour, and not Gaga. Presently she had a thought that whipped across her mind like a sting. "D'you know what I've been doing since we came here before?" she demanded. "I've been taking lessons in book-keeping. I'm getting on fine. The teacher says I've got a proper head for figures. He says I shall be a cashier in no time, and understand all that you can know about accounts. Isn't that good? So I shall be able to help you--like you said...." Gaga gave an admiring gesture. He was overwhelmed. "Oh, but you're ... marvellous!" he cried. "Simply marvellous! Here's Miss Summers says you're the best hand, for your age, that she's got...." "Did she say that?" Sally jumped for joy. "Really?" She gave a triumphant laugh, so naïve and full of ingenuous conceitedness that Gaga was overcome afresh with admiration. "You ought to have been two people," he answered. "Two little girls." "Half a dozen!" Sally proclaimed. "You see, I'm--it sounds conceited, and I expect I am; but it's true-- I'm clever. I'm not soppy. Other girls-- Rose Anstey.... They're soppy. They can't do anything. I can do all sorts of things because I'm clever-- I can sew, and ... you know, all sorts of things." Gaga glowed at her words. "I know," he eagerly agreed. "That's why you're so wonderful. Most girls can only do one thing. They can't even do that very well." "That's true. Takes them a week to do it; and then somebody has to do it over again for them. They haven't got any brains. They got no _sense_. They don't _think_." Sally was impetuous.