A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, April 1950 — page 22: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

22 A. MERRITT’S FANTASY “Good night, my boy, and take care of your Eve Madeleine.” CHAPTER 3 Lost Little Ernie pered to herself. “Oh, very swag- ger! But why the police inspec- tor?” She loitered by the railings of the square gardens, just across the road from the high, bronze-and-plate-glass entrance to Gravenor Mansio1.s. By moving a few steps in ether direction, she could see ' nearly all of the spacious, high-ceiled en- trance hall, decorated in mauve and silver, marble-floored, with a sort of Grecian-urn frieze high up on the walls, and here and there plaques of classic design. There were two elevators. By one of the two massive pairs of outer doors, just inside the hall, stood an obvious police inspector, talking earnestly to a six-foot attendant in a silver-braided mauve uni- form. Miss Brandon moved on a few steps, halted, and turned, vrishing the police in- spector out of the way. Rough lipstick and powder, skilfully used, had made wondrous changes in her face; she looked, as she had intended, rather down on her luck; an ancient fox- fur coat showed bare patches on its deep lapels and cuffs; she had bought it earlier in the evening at a Berwick Market stall. Her shoes were good, but both silk stock- ings were badly laddered, as her short woollen skirt revealed. When the police inspector emerged, she began walking away from her post, in the direction that he took, until he had got far enough ahead to disregard her. Then she facéd about and, crossing the road, went to Gravenor Mansions’ entrance, where the tall-attendant in uniform swung the door and looked down at her hat rather sourly. “And what might you be wanting, miss?” he inquired. “Could I see the pareiaker please ?”’ she asked in reply. “About little Ernie, COS Nreredto he Miss Brandon whis- — is ir?’ - he ~deé- manded, with a change to eagerness. “Little Ernie?” she echoed. “No, it ain’t about little Ernie, it’s about meself. Who is this little Ernie, anyhow—uh}! ae “ He’ s the caretaker’s little boy, an’ he’s lorst,” the attendant informed her, with a return to cold aloofness. “Well, could I see the caretaker ! Pr”? she persisted, after a pause. “You couldn’t,” he answered decidedly. °E’s hout—I mean, he’s out. Nigh off his rocker about the kid, too.” “Ow,” she said dubiously. “What chew want the caretaker for?”’ her interlocutor demanded. “T thought—” she gave him a swift, coquettish glance and lowered her gaze again—‘“‘you see, Lucy Parker—she’s a friend of mine—she told me they some- times want maids here, and I thought—”’ She broke off and twisted her gloved fin- gers together in apparent nervousness: He moved away to swing the heavy door for a couple entering—a couple on whom Miss Brandon instantly turned her back. Mauve-and-silver solemnly escorted Cleo Kefra and Tony Briggs to one of the automatic elevators. The attendant re- turned to her. “You can’t stand about in ‘ere, you know,” he said, not unkindly. “Why, what’s the harm if I do?” she demanded, smiling saucily. “Well, y'know, this place is clarss, that’s what it is.” “An’ I ain’t clarss. mean ?”’ “T dunno about that.” He looked un- comfortable at her half-smiling, satiric gaze. “I come off at ten,” he said. “Ow! An’ it’s only a little after nine, now. I could do with a little refreshment, too. D’you know anywhere round here?” “Baker’s Arms—private bar,” he an- swered,-with a certain eagerness. “It’s quiet, an’ quite refined. Sid’ll serve you, Is that what chew an’ if you tell him you’re a friend 0’ Phil Vincent’s, he'll look after you.” “Ow,” she said again, rather solemnly. “You will be there, won’t you?” he asked anxiously. “Ten o'clock ain’t long,” she answered. “T told you my name—you ain't told me yours,” he pointed out. “Grace Pottert—that’s me. An’ you’re sure there ain't no places goin’ here? I was parlormaid in me last place.” “It ain’t no use your lookin’ for the caretaker. Mr. Katzenbaum hisself en- com leDOOK ‘S zceOl — = = Ges - =