Pulp Fiction, 1919 · page 153 of 192
All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 153: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1919. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ae OFT : = — - SS - ee oor e aren a -; s : => os r » ae Oe a iF Se fl Se rar See ao “i =e < ae : : a ~ —ectitier ed upon; he did not like to have the matter taken wholly out of his hands. “For various reasons,” he answered in- anely. “That’s almost as bad as saying ‘ be- cause,’”’ observed Miss Dean with a faint smile. Tilley breathed deeply. He felt that it - was imperative to resume the initiative. “Insects,” he said, “ are no longer my chief pursuit in life.” Miss Dean smoothed ‘her skirt and. sighed. There were times when she had an intuition that was something more than human. “And what is now your chief pursuit?” she murmured. Tilley took his courage in both hands and plunged. “You,” he said. Miss Dean looked up at the pink sky and said never a word. “Ves, Miss Dean—you!” he a emboldened by her silence. She was thinking of the shemeeant and of several other things, trying to obtain the true perspective of the present onslaught. Tilley coughed behind his hand and made a fresh start. “All I think about is you,” he said, with a hint of pathos in his voice. “I’m sure it’s very kind of you,” she murmured. “JT have a very high regard for you, Miss Dean.” “T thank you.” “It gets stronger every day,” he said desperately. “You honor me, Mr. Tilley.” There was something in his expression that reminded her of the first day they met—a startled look that mingled surprise with recognition. Miss Dean studied it cu- riously. ‘““I—I—”” He paused and swallowed painfully. ‘“ I make a modest living, Miss Dean.” She had her lip between her teeth. “ But I am a man of economical habits. Yes, ma’am. I always put a little aside.” “Tt’s an excellent rule,” she said. “ [we got three—three thousand dollars __in the bank!” he said explosively. - See CROUCH. “Why, I think that’s perfectly fine!” a i she exclaimed, clasping her hands. ae “ And it’s all yours, Miss Dean.” ee “Mine! How can that be possible? To don’t understand, Mr. Tilley.” eee: He eyed her solemnly, nodding his head ; with slow emphasis. “All yours,” he repeated. - whatever you like with it.” ~ “ That’s very generous of you, but still I don’t understand. Probably I’m very stupid.” He made an emphatic-gesture of dissent. “ You’re. not stupid at all,” he assured her. ‘“ You’re—you’re—a shining light!” “Oh, but that’s a perfectly beautiful compliment!” she exclaimed. “And _ it makes one so happy when one receives a compliment, don’t you think? I do.” She said ‘this with the utmost gravity, and Tilley nodded his head mechanically. He was still struggling, but his spirit was undaunted. : What I meant, Miss Dean,” he burst out, “is that you can spend it any way you like—after we’re married.” There! He had made the matter plain at last, although he was alarmed at his own intrepidity. Miss Dean studied her hands as they lay in her lap. She noted an emerald ring on one finger and turned it about so that the stone was hidden. Then she looked up at him. “T had never thought about that,” she said softly. ‘‘I didn’t know we were to be married.” He blushed slowly, and began snapping the kunckle-joints on one hand, a proceed- ing that caused her to wince as each joint clicked sharply. “I think maybe I’ve got it wrong,” he faltered. ‘‘ What I mean is, I didn’t start exactly right. I intended to ask you to “You can do marry me first, and then I was coming to ~ the other matters.’’ She nodded understandingly . ‘“1’m an impulsive man,” he added. “TI sometimes speak without thinking.” Miss Dean straightened up and looked at him severely. “I think perhaps that is matter,” she said coldly. what is the =