“You prophesy in the most matter-of-fact tone a gross improbability,” observed Miss Van Arsdale.
“Oh, our first meeting was the gross improbability,” retorted the girl lightly. “After that anything might be logical. Au revoir.”
“Go with her, Ban,” said Miss Camilla.
“It isn’t leaving time yet,” he protested. “There’s five whole minutes.”
“Yes; come with me, Ban,” said Io tranquilly.
Camilla Van Arsdale kissed his cheek, gave him a little, half-motherly pat, said, “Keep on making me proud of you,” in her even, confident tones, and pushed him out of the door.
Ban and Io walked down the long platform in a thoughtful silence which disconcerted neither of them. Io led the way out of it.
“At half-past four,” she stated, “I had a glass of milk and one cracker.”
“Where do you want to breakfast?”
“Thanking you humbly, sir, for your kind invitation, the nearer the better. Why not here?”