Adventure Magazine Cover, June 18, 1921 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

Stes and Everhard soon as we left the curb, and in silence and darkness we drove along,each, no doubt, with thoughts enough to keep the mind busy. I did not try to watch the direction as it made little difference where I should arrive; but I was trying with all the concentration of which I was capable to review the meet- ing and conversation with Zoronna and try to guess whether accident or design had caused her to come and appeal tome. But after all, I decided, that item was unim- portant; for I-am by nature extremely watchful and cautious, and though a woman might deceive me she could not make me unguarded. After climbing a stiff grade for some blocks, the lmousine stopped under an archway overhung with vines, and a dim standing light burned at the top of a narrow entrancé. We got out, but I kept an eye cocked at the chauffeur, so that any time he was be- hind mé I was watching him. That pre- caution was perhaps needless; but I have never yet considered any of my precautions as a waste of time. He opened the entrance door and stepped back. Zoronna hurried in; and I followed, but dropped a glove as a pretext for facing about and waiting until he had recovered it for me, then closed the door myself. That incident is of no importance, except perhaps to show that I am not bashful about admit- ting my precautions. I followed Zoronna along a narrow hall, which had neither windows nor doors open- ing on to it, and we came out into a larger hall that led from the more used entrance of the house, which seemed, as nearly as I could judge, to bean apartment-house. She stopped before an automatic elevator, and I opened the door. We went in, and she pressed the button for the third floor. ~ All of that time she had said not a word, nor did she speak until she had entered her apartment, which was just off the elevator; ~ and then she asked me to sit down and ex- cuse her for a minute or two. of the barbaric splendor with which Zoronna Symondi surrounded her- self—of the fabulous gifts that had beens made her by admirers, and of her extrava- gance; and I suppose that the stories were true. My own tastes are not perhaps sim- ple, but I never had the time nor money to I HAD heard, or read, something 71 indulge in extravagances; and no doubt a person of true artistic perception would have been esthetically scandalized by the bizarre brilliancy of Zoronna’s rooms. She had kept her arrival and.presence out of the papers, but had not been able, it ap- peared, to moderate her mode of living. I was to learn that not one but three apart- ments had been taken by her, entirely-re- modeled, walls knocked out, and refitted to suit her whim. This accounted for the spa- ciousness of the rooms. Also I was told that in order to admit a huge mirror, which she had caused to be made to her order a year or so before, a part of the house wall had been knocked out and a wide balcony with sliding glass doors had been built at the entrance, through which the mirror had come. ~ Zoronna’s previous troubles with this mirror, and in finding a housing for it, had often appeared in the papers—no doubt. to the delight of whatever men she paid for keeping her name simmering in the press. I can not describe the room to which I was admitted, for Iam unfamiliar with the tech- nical names of such fine stuffs as she had. When one has said that there were oil paint- ings, none of them large, but strange-looking things—I remember the name signed to one; Cézanne—and that the large rug was white, with a great deal of figuration in vivid col- ors, and seemed to be made of silk; that the walls were a creamy white that for a border had a yellow tinting, which gave one the impression of sunlight; and that all around the room to a height of about eighteen inches there ran panels of black, carved wood; that the chairs were dainty-legged af- fairs, upholstered, with a creamy, satin-like fabric; that the only table in the room was a long, narrow, spindle-legged, fragile thing of a faintly reddish color, no doubt mahogany, and highly polished; and that the extremely heavy curtains were the color of sunlight and brocaded with gold—which seemed to me a waste of labor and money, as the pold figuration was scarcely visible except on close inspection—when I have said all that, I have told about all that I can.’ On the runner of gold cloth across the table lay a single book; and I glanced at the book because it seems to be inevitable that every one glances at books which are con- spicuously placed. It was curiously bound witha leather- like stuff, unornate and to me’ COmicloo “\ UM) ©