He says he's coming up here again."
"What for?"
"You."
"Does he know I'm here? Did he mention my name?"
"No. But he's had some information that probably points to you."
"What did you answer?"
Ban told her. "I think that will hold him off," he said hopefully.
"Then he's a very queer sort of reporter," returned Io scornfully out of
her wider experience. "No; he'll come. And if he's any good, he'll find
me."
"You can refuse to see him."
"Yes; but it's the mere fact of my being here that will probably give
him enough to go on and build up a loathsome article. How I hate
newspapers!... Ban," she appealed wistfully, "can't you stop him from
coming? Must I go?"
"You must be ready to go."
"Not until Miss Camilla is well again," she declared obstinately. "But
that will be in a day or two. Oh, well! What does it all matter! I've
not much to pack up, anyway. How are you going to get me out?"
"That depends on whether Gardner comes, and how he comes."
He pointed to a darkening line above the southwestern horizon. "If that
is what it looks like, we may be in for another flood, though I've never
known two bad ones in a season."
Io beckoned quaintly to the far clouds. "Hurry! Hurry!" she summoned.
"You wrecked me once.
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