Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

VOICES. ‘* All the phones were reported busy, how- | ever, and the owner of the voice apparently grew suspicious and hung up. Boyden per- sisted, and finally got in communication with the Grand Central people, who investi- gated. They found that the fellow had taken the receivers off the hooks of all the other coin box telephones before making his call, for the purpose of preventing any such attempt as that made by Boyden. The operator can’t ring, you know, if the re- ceiver is off the hook.” “And the man got away?” she asked, troubled. “Y’m afraid so. Boyden has gone up to look around and ask questions, but it seems sort of hopeless to expect him to learn any- thing about a single individual in the masses of transient persons at the Grand Central.” ‘You haven’t been as successful as you hoped then?” she inquired. “We haven’t done anything spectacular, but we’re making progress. We've been gathering together a number of tiny par- ticles for use in a mosaic, and we'll soon be in a position to put the particles together. When we do we expect to have a picture that any one can understand.” “ Soon?” “Very soon, I think.” She smiled and seemed reassured, her manner changing as she changed the sub- ject. “You wanted me to remind you to tell me something,” she said. “ Something about what an educated Arab once told you.” Fenwick was uncomfortably affected by the reminder, and once more was apparently covered with confusion. ‘‘ Some other time, please,”’ hastily. ‘ N-not now.” ‘Do tell me now,” she persisted. “JT. -I can’t. I don’t know you weil enough... I don’t know whatever possessed me to make such a statement. Please for- ect all about it.” ‘“T shall do nothing of the kind,” she de- clined positively. “I’ve half a notion it was about me, anyway. Come, Mr. Tele- phone Man, what was it?” “Tt would be presumptuous — imperti- nent, for me to tell you.” he responded 525 “T don’t believe it. ing!”’ ‘“You insisted, remember,” he advised, struggling to retain his composure. ‘‘ This Arab once described to me a Moslem’s idea of feminine beauty, and had reduced it to a kind of mathematical formula quite easy to remember. He said, first of all, that a woman must possess four attributes that are black—hair, eyebrows, eyelashes, and pupils. Then four that are white—skin, hands, teeth, and the white of the eye; four that are red—cheeks, lips, tongue, and gums; four that are long—back, arms, fin- gers, and—and limbs. Lastly, four that are small—eyebrows, nose, lips, and fingers. This, he said, was Allah’s conception of beauty.” Fenwick regarded the opposite side of the room with well-simulated interest, while the girl repressed a smile. “And why should you feel it incumbent upon you to acquaint me with the aberra- tions of some harem-loving scamp of an Arab?” she demanded sternly. “They are not aberrations,” he denied stotttly. ‘Can’t you see that, despite the mathematical feature of it, he’s really de- scribed a wonderfully beautiful woman?” Tell me; I’m wait- “Well, what of it, Mr. Bell?” she per- — sisted. ‘ Why tell me?” ‘“* Because his description occurred to me the minute [ saw you,” he blurted. ‘“ You —you are the girl he described!” There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence, broken by the girl. “You should surely succeed in running down the voices, Mr. Bell,” she declared. “You are so observant! I suppose I should feel flattered at your kindly interest, your knowledge of the color of my eyelashes, gums and tongue. You promised that your statement would be—” “Hullo, Lorraine,” greeted Otis King, sauntering into the room and dropping into a chair. ‘“ ’Morning, Bell.” He sensed a constrained situation and sought to relieve it. “Been bottling up the voices, you two?” ‘“‘ Where have you been, Otis?” asked the girl. ‘* Just came in with Boyden. He picked me up at the Grand Central.” Gomichbooks.com | el ._. 2