You need nothing but what you've got

"I shouldn't like to think that you're afraid of anything." "I'm not." But her tone was that of the defiance which seeks to encourage itself. "I'd call it a desertion," he said steadily. "Oh, no! You're secure. You need nothing but what you've got. Power, reputation, position, success. What more can heart desire?" she taunted. "You." She quivered under the blunt word, but rallied to say lightly: "Six months isn't long. Though I may stretch it to a year." "It's too long for endurance." "Oh, you'll do very well without me, Ban." "Shall I? When am I to see you again before you go?" Her raised eyebrows were like an affront. "Are we to see each other again? Of course, it would be polite of you to come to the train." There was a controlled and dangerous gravity in his next question. "Io, have we quarreled?" "How absurd! Of course not." "Then--" "If you knew how I dislike fruitless explanations!" He rose at once. Io's strong and beautiful hands, which had been lying in her lap, suddenly interlocked, clenching close together. But her face disclosed nothing. The virtuoso, who had been hopefully hovering in the offing, bore down to take the vacated chair. He would have found the lovely young Mrs. Eyre distrait and irresponsive had he not been too happy babbling of his own triumphs to notice. "Soon zey haf growed thin, zis crowd," said the violinist, who took pride in his mastery of idiom. "Zen, when zere remains but a small few, I play for you. You sit _zere_, in ze leetle garden of flowers." He indicated the secluded seat near the stairway, where she had sat with Ban on the occasion of her first visit to The House With Three Eyes. "Not too far; not too near. From zere you shall not see; but you shall think you hear ze stars make for you harmonies of ze high places."