Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

504 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. This is idle talk, is it not?” he continued. “And I have come here for a purpose to- night. Why do you flush again?” ‘‘ What is your purpose?” “To study you. No, do not turn away.” He caught both her hands and made her sit facing him. ‘““T cannot tell whether to be angry, or to laugh or smile,” she said faltering. “ By my faith, Beatrice, you seem nearer to weeping than to any of the other three.” Her hands tugged at his, but his grip held. She said: “ You have such a frown that I cannot see your eyes in the shadow. I am afraid! Let my hands free!” “Tf I did that you would turn away,” he answered. ‘“ Now you smile. That is well. You are no longer angry.” “Foolish Pietro, you have seen me many a time. Why do you look so scowlingly on me now?” “Because I have come to study, not merely to admire. I have been troubled about the Venus, you see.” “Ah! But [ have heard it praised from a thousand sources. They tell me it will be a masterpiece. Why will you not let me come to look at it?” “Not until the head is done. Then you may see. It is the head which troubles me. I do not like the model.” ‘“Then you find fault with me?” He did not heed the hardness of her voice, but answered: ‘“‘T have wondered whether the fault was in me or in you. A friend told me to-night that the trouble lies in you.” “Ah! Who is this friend?” ‘The yellow is in your eyes again, Bea- trice. He is a dear comrade of mine. He taught me all I know.” “1 would give many round ducats to see this fellow—this prodigy of wisdom. Where has he seen me? It was in the morning, Pietro, very early, and then sometimes there are shadows under my eyes and I look older than I am—because of the slanting light. I hate the morning!” “No, he has never seen you.” “Then his tongue should be clipped for an insolent rogue!”’ “Hush! He criticised your soul, and not your face. I was troubled also, but I see now that the fault was mine, not thine.” “Tell me!” ‘““T have made a Venus that is flesh, and flesh wrinkles and grows old.” He fell musing, with downward eyes. “Look up,” she whispered, ‘‘ for when you look down I know that your thoughts are far from me.” ‘“No, I was thinking of you even then. Ah, Beatrice, in these white hands you hold ~ my heart and play with it when I am with you. When I am away, there is a differ- ence!” “Why, why? hate you, Pietro.” “I do not know, but when I am away, I think I forget. I only remember that you are beautiful.” “T would not ask for more than that!” ‘“ Would you not?” he asked, wondering deeply. “No, truly. What woman would ask for more?” she said. “Why, Beatrice, I have known men in love to whom the thought of a woman was like a speaking voice.” “T hate soliloquies, Pietro. If you have thoughts of me, let me hear them. As for the others—” She waved such idle things away into the thin air. Peter’s eyes burned as they followed the flash of the white arm. “T shall go to see Messer Antonio della Marca,’’ he muttered softly, “on the mor- row. I understand him at last!” “What do you say, Pietro?” ‘My friend Salviati is ‘a fool! tell him so!” “And who is he?” “ Beatrice, you are beautiful!” ‘You have said that.” She smiled, and then leaned a little toward him. ‘ But tell me again, and again, and again! You have never spoken before as you speak now.” Out of the noises of the street grew a girl’s singing voice, faint with distance._ “ Beatrice—” He stopped, breathing with difficulty. “It is always this way, Beatrice, when I sit close to you my pulses thicken and go fast, and you change, and I catch the fra- grance of some violet perfume that is always If you stop there, I shall T shall =~ Comicdookxs.com)