Adventure Magazine Cover — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

OAL Rs iy) oP eople “Fourth |. Dimension ke by S BHHURST Author of “The Padre of Paradise Street,’ “The Mending,” etc. 3 UT does my lord really love me?” Sesson, striving for eloquence, became feverishly inarticulate, after the manner of men more accustomed, to the silences of vast spaces than the babble of crowds. The girl, who was fifteen in age but an- cient in wisdom and. with a subtle under- standing of life which few Western women can hope to attain, laid a bangled arm about the man’s neck and drew his face down gently. The greatest of sculptors, banished again to earth, might have carved her out of old ivory, giving form and exis- tence to the memory of his spirit love, lest he forget and the wonder of her be lost for- ever. ‘““And the old one,” she whispered, simu- lating an easy indifference to disguise a burning curiosity, ‘“what does he say?” “Er, well—” Sesson fought his limited bump of language. ‘You see, light of the world, men of my race do not talk to one another about their love affairs.” “So. But of course I know you forget all about me when you leave my house.”’ With the lack of originality of men of all races, Sesson tried to tell her that he could not forget, that she was never out of his mind. Listening, she suddenly realized that her smile was betraying her feelings and she began to laugh playfully. “But is my lord—who is so big and strong—afraid to tell the old Sinclair sahib about his home with me?” 72 “No, not afraid—but what good would it do? Besides, I don’t want—I mean I— that is e “Tt is, my lord, and I am proud you hold me so sacred,’ coming into the wind easily, she shot off on another tack, without Ses- son, who had been a sailor, being at all aware of her evolution. They sat in the cool of the evening on the top of the house Sesson had rented for the girl with all the care and secrecy at his command. He knew only too well how news travels among the natives of India, and he had no desire to have his love affair become a joke in the bazaars. Rising and falling, the roar of Calcutta flowed beneath them like a river; and in the still air the smoke of cooking fires lazily waved. The early bats were beginning their evening’s gambol. sign of the girl’s faith, the faintest crescent of a moon seemed more like an ornament than a satellite, and there were no stars. “Looks as if the monsoon were about to break,’’ Sesson remarked irrelevantly. “Thinkest thou of the weather when with me?” she chided. “It was but my tongue speaking,” he apologized. ‘My soul is dumb in thy presence—like a devout in the temple of a goddess.” “Very good, my Sesson,” she applauded. “Give me more. [I like it, for it is good talk.” He did his best and while she listened she Hanging like the. wondered; coming to the conclusion that ° (C@ 0)(\) (F@