"
"Just you and I. Man and woman. Alone in the world. Sometimes I think it
has always been so with us."
"We have no world of our own, Io," he said sadly.
"Heresy, Ban; heresy! Of course we have. An inner world. If we could
forget--everything outside."
"I am not good at forgetting."
He felt her fingers, languid and tremulous, at his throat, her heart's
strong throb against his shoulder as she bent, the sweet breath of her
whisper stirring the hair at his temple:
"Try, Ban."
Her mouth closed down upon his, flower-sweet, petal-light, and was
withdrawn. She leaned back, gazing at him from half-closed, inscrutable
eyes.
"That's for good-bye, Io?" With all his self-control, he could not keep
his voice steady.
"There have been too many good-byes between us," she murmured.
He lifted his head, attentive to a stir at the door, which immediately
passed.
"I thought that was Archie, come after you."
"Archie isn't coming."
"Then I'll send for the car and take you home."
"Won't you understand, Ban? I'm not going home."
CHAPTER IX
Io Eyre was one of those women before whom Scandal seems to lose its
teeth if not its tongue. She had always assumed the superb attitude
toward the world in which she moved.
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