Something suddenly, as if under a last determinant touch, welled up in him and overflowed—the sense of his good fortune and her variety, of the future she promised, the interest she supplied.

Something suddenly, as if under a last determinant touch, welled up in him and overflowed—the sense of his good fortune and her variety, of the future she promised, the interest she supplied.
Densher stood before her as if he wondered what everything she thus promptly, easily and above all amusingly met him with, would have been found, should it have come to an analysis, to "take."
"Yes, precisely—that takes, on his part, genius."
"Then there you are!"
Women don't know if it's agreeable or not."
"If you mean not for you," Kate returned, "you may have reasons—and men don't count.
"Not surely for every one."
"Oh but it is!"
"Ah but if the effect," said Densher with conscious superficiality, "isn't agreeable—?"
He has somehow an effect without his being in any traceable way a cause."
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I don't know at least," she said, "what else to call it when a man's able to make himself without effort, without violence, without machinery of any sort, so intensely felt.
"Universal.
"Political?"
She balanced indeed so that one would scarce have known what to expect; but she came out in time with a very sufficient "Yes!"
Kate, as if for a more final opinion than had yet been asked of her, took a moment to think.
"In Lord Mark's genius?"
"And do you believe in that?"
*The* thing's his genius."
Besides, he's grand enough, with a duke in his family and at the other end of the string.