Adventure Magazine Cover — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

48 “Do I look old?” “No-o—not the way you mean—you look developed.”’ “Oh—y-es—”’ She colored faintly. Lassiter appraised her, unable to under- stand it. How was it possible in thirteen little years to fashion such a creature? Then, too, her swift flowering foretold her swift decay. He thought of Prymox!—that rag. Only a little time ago she must have been as beautiful as her daughter. The promoter pursued his queer calculations. When he himself was thirteen years old, the ancient Prymox! was born. When he was studying Spanish in the Stendill offices, Tilita came into this world. Now here he was at thirty-nine on a love stroll with the girl through the jungle— The thought gave him a queer feeling of being a sort of human mountain and watch- ing flowers bloom and perish on its slopes. It cast a sort of pathos over the girl. Her beauty would be so brief. It was the grace of a swallow sailing against the evening sky, that vanished in the making. Lassi- ter looked at her and wondered if she were up north would the higher latitudes pre- serve her volatile loveliness? He thought of Maine—a Maine coast cottage in the Summer, and—say the Caro- linas for the Winter. If he were married to Tilita and could escape this human hot- house of Motobatl, he would domicile her in—say Charleston—one of those old man- sions down on the Battery. A sun-wor- shiper in the remote conservatism of Char- leston’s Battery! The incongruity of such an idea set the promoter laughing. The girl was surprized and wanted to know the reason. The pro- moter could not hope to explain his mental meanderings to the girl, so he asked— ‘“How came you to be so angry at Bird- song, Tilita?’’ zm) THE smile on the girl’s face van- () ished abruptly, and Lassiter dis- covered that her countenance had that extraordinary quality of seeming to look its best in whatever mood it wore. About one woman out of three or four million possesses this charm. “He—but he i is your friend, primo.” “In a way.” “Then let’s not talk of it.” A grotesque suspicion filtered through Lassiter’s brain. Adventure “You don’t mean that he—and Nunes both——” “Oh no-o-o!” cried Tilita, outraged at the thought of Birdsong caressing her. “‘I know what he said to you this morning.” The promoter stared at her. “To me?” he asked blankly. Tilita’s lips quivered. “He was talking about me——” The promoter looked at the girl trying to think back to the morning. “Senior Nunes told me,”’ she added. Just then Lassiter recalled Birdsong’s Biblical discussion. ““Oh—that The girl nodded a oli, searching his face. “That was nothing.”’ “He said evil things against me,” de- clared Tilita hotly. “He said you were wicked even to know me.”’ From her wrath it was evident that Nunes had informed her fully of the con- versation and all its implications. It em- barrassed the promoter. ‘“‘Why did you let him say such things of me?”’ she pressed. “Really, Tilita, you—you can’t very well tell what a man’s going to say till he says it——”’ “You let him talk on.” “T couldn’t stop him.” “Why?” ‘““He’s a sort of preacher.” ‘‘A preacher bs “Yes, a—a preacher is a man you pay ‘to say disagreeable things; you can’t take offense at a fellow, you know, when he’s on his job.” Lassiter hoped this little skit would make her smile. Instead she grew angrier, opened her eyes wider and seemed taller. “It you pay him to say such things of me,” she declared passionately, “you be- lieve him!” “Why, I don’t pay him!” cried the pro- moter astonished. “You said you did.” Lassiter was upset. “Believe what? Iwas talking ina general way about preachers, a sort of joke. What do I believe? .What are you talking about?” “You believe it!’ cried the girl curiously moved. ‘He said I was a strange woman— a wicked woman—that your God. forbid our marriage—that I would be a strange wife—strange—strange— What is there strange, about me?” NOOK (©