"
He made no comment, but went out and returned with the flowers. Meantime
Io had made up her mind.
"I've had an unpleasant surprise, Ban."
"I was afraid so."
She glanced up quickly. "Did you see him?"
"No. Mindle, the mail transfer man, did."
"Oh! Well, that was Aleck Babson. 'Babbling Babson,' he's called at the
clubs. He's the most inveterate gossip in New York."
"It's a long way from New York," pointed out Banneker.
"Yes; but he has a long tongue. Besides, he'll see the Westerleys and my
other friends in Paradiso, and babble to them."
"Suppose he does?"
"I won't have people chasing here after me or pestering me with
letters," she said passionately. "Yet I don't want to go away. I want to
get more rested, Ban, and forget a lot of things."
He nodded. Comfort and comprehension were in his silence.
"You can be as companionable as a dog," said Io softly. "Where did you
get your tact, I wonder? Well, I shan't go till I must.... Lemonade,
Ban! I brought over the lemons myself."
They lunched a little soberly and thoughtfully.
"And I wanted it to be festive to-day," said Io wistfully, speaking out
her thoughts as usual. "Ban, does Miss Camilla smoke?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Because if she does, you'll think it all right.
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