Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, December 1956 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

I couldn’t. I really tried, too.” “Cut it out,” Cliff said. > She sighed. and shrugged. “Oh well. I'll think of something.” She shut her eyes briefly and sagged over the bar, sighing again with a deep, breathy sound from the bot- _ tom of her narrow lungs. Then she looked up and flashed a bright, de- termined smile. “Maybe we ought to talk about you now. Let’s drink up.” She thumped her glass on the bar. “Another beer for Mrs. William Howard Brewster.” = Cliff got quickly to his feet. “Not for me. I’m on my way. Well, good-bye, Anne, I sure hope you—” “Wait a minute. Hold on. What’s your hurry? I’m ready, too, I guess. Maybe I’ve had enough.” She set- tled the big straw hat on her head, snatched up her handbag. She was only a little unsteady, he thought, and as tall as he on her thin high heels, but no wider than a twig. She. smiled and blinked her eyes brightly at him, suddenly quite _ jaunty. “I feel better now,” she as- sured him. “I feel fine. Why don’t you walk me part way home? It’s a beautiful night. I was noticing the moon over the water when | —just betore I—” She paused, look- ing down at her handbag. “Well, anyhow, Ill be all right. Don’t you worry about me. I’ve got the _ wherewithal.” She laughed, patting the bag. “He had a professor who used to talk all the time about the wherewithal. It was. one of our jokes, back in the good days. We did have. good days, once.” Her laughter went .a little forced and then died. . | “I have a bus to catch,” Cliff said. _ “Walk as far as my car and. I'll give you a. lift. I owe you that. much. You did me a good turn. Oh, come along.” She tucked her chin down and looked at- him from the tops of her eyes with a sort of bloodshot coquettishness. “I might jump in the ocean if you don’t.” Cliff thought, Well, maybe she might, at that. Maybe I ought to go with her. I guess she hates being alone. It can’t do any harm to walk aways with her. And he was yet young enough to find it hard to say no. He looked at the straw horse and rider cantering gaily along the brim. of the straw hat. The bright summer dress looked quite cheerful. She smiled and her lipstick was not on very straight, but it was bright and red. “All right,” he said. Of all the sounds, the music of the merry-go- ‘round went with them farthest along the dark high- way. At first there were filling sta- tions and used car lots to break up the night, but before long, stretches of vacant lots began and it was like walking through open coun- try between the street lights. Wild mustard grew high here, pale in the moonlight. Where the highway bordered the ocean, they could see the big luminous breakers come threshing in to collapse exhausted on the sand. g ALERED HITCHCOCK'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE GomicbooksEeco