“You’re a friend of both Martin and Roberts?” Deane asked incredulously.
“I can get along with anybody.” Rio looked at her and some of his hatred appeared in his eyes.
“You love Martin very much, don’t you, Rio?”
“Maybe. He said so one night. The way you and him throw that word around, though, it means anything.”
“I intended it to be a good word, Rio—a brave word.”
Rio grinned. Deane thought it was the strongest, most vicious expression she had ever seen. She wasn’t afraid, but such clear hatred made her hesitate.
“Rio,” she said finally, “I love Martin. But I won’t let him escape the world. It isn’t fear that makes him try it, but he has a quality of evasiveness that clears him from all reality. It has been convenient for him at times, but some day it will destroy him. I love him too much to let this happen.” Deane was tired. She felt older. She didn’t even know that her eyes were full of tears.
Rio stopped smiling and stared at the floor. Suddenly he got up and went over to her.
“I made a mistake,” he said.