“For a hundred!” cried Io.
The wine of life was potent in her veins.
CHAPTER VIII
Before the walk was over, Io knew Banneker as she had never before, in her surrounded and restricted life, known any man; the character and evolution and essence of him. Yet with all his frankness, the rare, simple, and generous outgiving of a naturally rather silent nature yielding itself to an unrecognized but overmastering influence, he retained the charm of inner mystery. Her sudden understanding of him still did not enable her to place him in any category of life as she knew it to be arranged.
The revelation had come about through her description of her encounter with the queer and attentive bird of the desert.
“Oh,” said Banneker. “You’ve been interviewing a cactus owl.”
“Did he unwind his neck carefully and privately after I had gone?”
“No,” returned Banneker gravely. “He just jumped in the air and his body spun around until it got back to its original relation.”