"I'm persuasive," Irene declared, finally offering out a bit of mercy in the form of a well-practiced crossing of her legs and arms to obscure her more interesting swaths of bare skin. "Your bedroom is lovely. Why don't we spend more time in here, anyway?"

And that right there was as good as declaring that she'd noticed quite well that she'd never been invited to stay the night before. (She, in fact, had not really been invited this time, either, but you know. Weasel gonna weasel.)