Seldom did Banneker see his employer in the office, but Marrineal often
came to the Saturday nights of The House With Three Eyes, which had
already attained the fame of a local institution. As the numbers drawn
to it increased, it closed its welcoming orbs earlier and earlier, and,
once they were darkened, there was admittance only for the chosen few.
It was a first Saturday in October, New York's homing month for its
indigenous social birds and butterflies, when The House triply blinked
itself into darkness at the untimely hour of eleven-forty-five. There
was the usual heterogeneous crowd there, alike in one particular alone,
that every guest represented, if not necessarily distinction, at least
achievement in his own line. Judge Willis Enderby, many times invited,
had for the first time come. At five minutes after midnight, the
incorruptible doorkeeper sent an urgent message requesting Mr.
Banneker's personal attention to a party who declined politely but
firmly to be turned away. The host, answering the summons, found Io. She
held out both hands to him.
"Say you're glad to see me," she said imperatively.
"Light up the three eyes," Banneker ordered the doorman. "Are you
answered?" he said to Io.
"Ah, that's very pretty," she approved.
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