. It's off. I think just that of you. I'm a friend of yours, as I
hope to prove to you some day. I don't lay this up against you; not for
a minute."

Not trusting himself to make answer to this proffer, Banneker turned
away to find his host and make his adieus. As he left, he saw Delavan
Eyre, flushed but composed, sipping a liqueur and listening with
courteous appearance of appreciation to a vapid and slobbering story of
one of the racing magnates. A debauchee, a cumberer of the earth,
useless, selfish, scandalous of life--and Banneker, looking at him with
pitiful eyes, paid his unstinted tribute to the calm and high courage of
the man.

Walking slowly home in the cool air, Banneker gave thanks for a
drink-proof head. He had need of it; he wanted to think and think
clearly. How did this shocking revelation about Eyre affect his own
hopes of Io? That she would stand by her husband through his ordeal
Banneker never doubted for an instant. Her pride of fair play would
compel her to that. It came to his mind that this was her other and
secret reason for not divorcing Eyre; for maintaining still the outward
form of a marriage which had ceased to exist long before. For a lesser
woman, he realized with a thrill, it would have been a reason for
divorcing him.... Well, here was a barrier, indeed, against which he was
helpless. Opposed by a loyalty such as Io's he could only be silent and
wait.

In the next few weeks she was very good to him. Not only did she lunch
with him several times, but she came to the Saturday nights of The House
With Three Eyes, sometimes with Archie Densmore alone, more often with a
group of her own set, after a dinner or a theater party. Always she made
opportunity for a little talk apart with her host; talks which any one
might have heard, for they were concerned almost exclusively with the
affairs of The Patriot, especially in its relation to the mayoralty
campaign now coming to a close. Yet, impersonal though the discussions
might be, Banneker took from them a sense of ever-increasing intimacy
and communion, if it were only from a sudden, betraying quiver in her
voice, an involuntary, unconscious look from the shadowed eyes. Whatever
of resentment he had cherished for her earlier desertion was now
dissipated; he was wholly hers, content, despite all his passionate
longing for her, with what she chose to give. In her own time she would
be generous, as she was brave and honorable....

She was war