All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

THE: GROUCH, ture. So she merely shook her head, in order to spare him the words. “ Maybe ”—he hesitated—‘ maybe it’s because— But I suppose I haven’t any business to ask.” Then earnestness con- quered his reluctance. ‘“‘ 1 suppose there’s somebody else.” “What makes you think so?” ‘There must be. You’ve just got to love somebody, haven’t you?” | Miss Dean pondered that.’ “T hadn’t thought of it that way,” she said. “ You mean that all of us have to love somebody? “Well, perhaps that’s true. At least, I imagine we ought to. It seems natural, doesn’t it?” “Yes; it’s natural,” affirmed Higgins gloomily. ‘“ And if you do love uated ‘Miss Dean, well I hope—” cc- “Yes?” His eyes were solemn. “ T hope it isn’t— Well, you understand.” ‘““T suppose you mean Mr. Tilley?” He nodded. “No,” she said. “If I love anybody— remember I’m saying #f—it is not Mr. Tilley.” Higgins drew a great breath. “That’s something, anyhow,” he ac- knowledged. ‘“‘ Of course, it doesn’t seem to help me any—and yet it does, too, in one way; because now I’m satisfied you’re not going to run into some awful blunder, Miss Dean. I wouldn’t want you to do that.” “Tt is very good of you to feel that way,” she said, her voice sounding very small and somehow contrite. Higgins got out of his chair and stood clumsily before her. “Oh, I feel that way, all right,” he de- clared earnestly. ‘“ I'll always feel that way. And just so long as you’re a free woman, Miss Dean, I’m not going to give up the idea that I’ve got a chance.” = “Please, now, Mr. Higgins!” He shook his head firmly. And when Higgins was firm there was a solidity about the matter that suggested Gibraltar. “T can wait,” he said patiently. “I won’t bother you. I won’t even ask you to go TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT WEEK. Don’t forget this magazine is issued weekly, and that you will get the conclusion of this story without waiting a month, 11 A-S Po fishing, if you don’t want to. me. Miss Dean.” She was looking away from him. ‘Tt was you, all right. I couldn’t be wrong about that. And it looked like me. That was the crazy part. Because it couldn’t have been me, and yet—” He wiped his forehead. “I can’t make it out at all. me. That’s the truest thing I ever said.” “It must have been very puzzling,” she said. “Puzzling?” echoed Higgins. “It was enough to set me crazy. I didn’t know for awhile whether I was dreaming or going soft in the bean. “That’s what made me propose to you in such a foolish way. I was excited.” “Was Mr. ventured. “And then some,” he said. “Tell me all you can remember of the picture,” she commanded. Higgins described with as much detail as he could remember. He described almost hopefully, as though possessed of the notion that the photograph might be translated into reality. She nodded gravely when he had finished. “Tt must have astonished you,” she ad- mitted. “Lord, yes!” “Have you any theory?” “Not yet,” he declared grimly. ‘“ But I’ll have more than a theory when I get through, Miss Dean. I'll have an explana- tion. Ill get it if I have to wring his neck!” They talked for a little and then Higgins reached for his old felt hat. “Good night,” he said. “ I’m still in the ring, but I’m not going to annoy you any. I can’t help being in love with you, can I?” She watched him as he trudged off across the meadow, and then shook her head half angrily as his figure was lost in the darkness. ‘Just now I’m ashamed of myself!” she exclaimed. So long as I know it isn’t Tilley I feel better. eae ‘But I did think there was a chance for = : me. Perhaps it was that picture he showed = That’s something I can’t understand, I wish to God it had been Tilley excited, too?” she =