Rivalry between the two
geniuses inspired the musician to make an offer which he would hardly
have granted to royalty itself.
"After a time, when zese chatterers are gon-away, I shall play for you.
Is zere some one here who can accompany properly?"
Necessarily Io sent for Banneker to find out. Yes; young Mackey was
coming a little later; he was a brilliant amateur and would be flattered
at the opportunity. With a direct insistence difficult to deny, Banneker
drew Io aside for a moment. Her eyes glinted dangerously as she faced
him, alone for the moment, with the question that was the salute before
the crossing of blades.
"Well?"
"Are you really going, Io?"
"Certainly. Why shouldn't I?"
"Say that, for one reason"--he smiled faintly, but resolutely--"The
Patriot needs your guiding inspiration."
"All The Patriot's troubles are over. It's plain sailing now."
"What of The Patriot's editor?"
"Quite able to take care of himself."
Into his voice there suffused the first ring of anger that she had ever
heard from him; cold and formidable. "That won't do, Io. Why?"
"Because I choose."
"A child's answer. Why?"
"Do you want to be flattered?" She raised to his, eyes that danced with
an impish and perverse light.
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