“Say you’re glad to see me,” she said imperatively.
“Light up the three eyes,” Banneker ordered the doorman. “Are you answered?” he said to Io.
“Ah, that’s very pretty,” she approved. “It means ‘welcome,’ doesn’t it?”
“Welcome,” he assented.
“Then Herbert and Esther can come in, can’t they? They’re waiting in the car for me to be rejected in disgrace. They’ve even bet on it.”
“They lose,” answered Banneker with finality.
“And you forgive me for cajoling your big, black Cerberus, because it’s my first visit this year, and if I’m not nicely treated I’ll never come again.”
“Your welcome includes full amnesty.”
“Then if you’ll let me have one of my hands back—it doesn’t matter which one, really—I’ll signal the others to come in.”
Which, accordingly, she did. Banneker greeted Esther Forbes and Cressey, and waited for the trio until they came down. There was a stir as they entered. There was usually a stir in any room which Io entered. She had that quality of sending waves across the most placid of social pools. Willis Enderby was one of the first to greet her, a quick irradiation of pleasure relieving the austere beauty of his face.