All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

Mame in sudden anxiety. “Wait till I get you a glass of water.” He waved her aside and walked over to the window, where he stood with his back toward her. For several seconds he felt as if his head were revolving on his shoulders. It had been Mame Brundage he carried to the cottage! The revelation not only shocked but dis- gusted him. Had he but known that last _ night, Mame would have lain in the path until the snow covered her, for all he would have done to preserve her. He had actually carried this gangling and garrulous affliction all the way down to the cottage—in his arms! Ugh! “Ts your chokin’ better?” inquired Mame gently. “ That’s good. I just knew you had a kind heart, Mr. March. I knew when you heard what happened you’d be affected by it. Aren’t you?” The Grouch nodded, but did not look at her. “The next thing I remember, I was sit- tin’ in the cottage, and Miss Dean was talk- in’ to.me. It seems she came in and found me sittin’ there. I wasn’t any more sur- prised than she was.” Mame rambled along with the remainder of her story, to which the Grouch listened _as if it were the memory of a bad dream. The only part to which he paid close at- tention was Mame’s recital of how Miss Dean made a journey out into the darkness in_order to investigate. “You say she didn’t find anything?” he asked as he slowly rallied himself. “Not a thing,” said Mame. “ Of course, I ain’t sure she went all the way up the path to where it happened. She said she did, but you know how it is with some women. My idea, when I come to think it over, is that she was scared to go all the way, but just let on that she did so I’d think she was braver than me.” The Grouch was not at all sure about that. Dean might have found. “The more I see of her, the more strange she is,” added Mame. ‘I suppose you knew she was a vampire, didn’t you? Oh, yes; she confessed that. He was speculating as to what Miss > ~— but it was easy enough to tell. But you’ve met her, so I suppose you know.” = How’ s that?” he demanded. “Oh, I heard about your meetin’ her,” said Mame in a tone of soft reproach. = : ae ar el = +, t 8 4 c GROUCH. a , a Se ass 48 5 -©YVou’re chokin’ on somethin’,” said “She didn’t admit it in so many words, Bee “You never said anything about it, but I _ 2 heard it. up to the millpond. That makes twice.” You met her up to the lake, with Mr, Higgins, and you met her yesterday oa The Grouch breathed again. For a mo- = | ment he feared that Mame had heard of “4 another meeting. “Tt’s nothin’ to me, you understand,” continued Mame with a shrug. “ Only— well, I think when people get well acquaint- ed they ought not to start in keepin’ things from each other. I never keep anything from you.” E “Good Heaven! groaned. Mame had tried to bring to her eyes that soul-stirred expression she had seen so often on the picture-screen at Hurleyville; but at the Grouch’s heartless comment she aban- doned the effort. Don’t I know it?” he ““T expect you think it was bold of me | to say that,” she declared as she rose primly — = from her chair. way, but it wasn’t meant to be. If there’s one thing nobody can accuse me of, it’s boldness. “I never force myself on people. When one understands what’s proper and what isn’t, one isn’t liable to make mistakes like that. If my comp’ny annoys you, [ll go.” - She walked stiffly to the table and picked up the tray. “I suppose you're finished with your dinner?” she said coldly. “Take it away.” She went as far as the door-step and paused, irresolute. “Tl be sharp on time with yout sup- per,” she said in a voice suddenly softened. “‘T ain’t mad with you, Mr. March. Hon- est! I know you mean right.” The Grouch threw out his arms in a wild gesture and then gripped his hair with both hands, tugging until his scalp ached and: a his teeth gritted in sheer pain. “Lord, what a mess!” he exclaimed as- 3 2 Mame passed beyond the range of hearing. = go alt “Maybe it sounded that.