All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

744 “T can’t—because I can’t touch it till I’m twenty-one. Mama left it to me. I haven’t much ready cash, and I don’t want to use what I have got be- cause I think papa looks at my check- book every day on the sly. The only thing I can do is to raise loans on my rings and things—” “Wh-what! Great wherever did you—” ‘““Yourre silly,” she interrupted gen- tly, creeping a little nearer to me and softly laughing my horror away. “Why shouldn't I? It would only be for a few days, and I could stay in bed with the shivers or something, so that I wouldn’t have to wear them, and nobody would know they were gone. I’m sure you could raise forty-five hun- dred on my _ pendant and_ necklace alone.” “ T—could? ”’ She nodded in the most matter-of- fact way in the world. “Tm going to send them round to you to-morrow when papa is out. And on Monday morning about ten o’clock, because it’s quieter then, you'll go to Nospim’s with them and get them to loan you all you can. “Then on Thursday morning you'll get them out again. That isn’t diff- cult. Just think of me having to stay in bed, pretending. I’m terribly ill and having to take all kinds of stupid, nasty medicines!” I didn't say anything—just looked; and we studied each other for a minute or two. I got the worst of it. No man ever conflicted with eyes like those and got off scathless. ““ Now that’s settled,” she announced with a triumphant little smile. ‘“‘ And we are near the place where you must get out. When you do, don’t say good- by to me or anything. Just pay the chauffeur and walk away. He knows where to go.” “Jove! You’ve got the whole busi- ness down to a very fine science.” “Have I?” Her mouth twisted queerly ‘twixt a smile and a tear. “You see, I was desperate—and ne- guns, child, THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. cessity, you know? You don’t think I’m terribly brazen, do you?” *“No—no, of course not. I rather like it.” ** Honestly ? ” Her hand strayed to the lapel of my coat in a proprietary sort of way, and I imagined she was a lonely little soul. “Yes, I'm quite certain of it. Were you not just a little afraid?” She glanced up quickly in surprise. “Of you? No, not a bit. “I think you have the kindest face of any man I ever met.” That settled it. No one had ever said anything quite so nice as that to me before. She owned me from that moment; and I would have given much to have had Sysonsby hear her say it. But it embarrassed me, and, to change the subject, [ asked: “Where did your aunt get that limp- ing butler?” “Gracious! What a jump! Why, from England, of course. Couldn’t you tell that? ”’ “Yes, quite plainly. I’ve seen him before somewhere and I'm afraid he recognized me.” “Oh, please don’t think that!” She clutched my arms fearfully. “ What makes you think he did?” “Nothing at all—just intuition. I thought he wrote that note. The hand is so very masculine. It isn’t yours, is it?” She hesitated and looked away. © No, baste tine.” “Well, that’s all right,” I said as lightly as possible. “ Don’t let’s bother about it. I just thought I'd like to—” The cab stopped, and I did not finish the sentence. “My station, isn’t it?” “Yes, and please don’t be angry. You may kiss me if you think you ought to.” Since there was no time to study the matter from more than one angle, I thought I ought to—and she did not flinch. “Good night—Margaret,” I whis- pered. comicloooks.com