Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

BORROWED PLUMES, surprise. He wondered why. An instant, . and he held her warm little palm in his. “Why, monsieur le comte! Who thought to see you here? It is a pleasure of the un- expected—/ein?”’ He seated himself uncomfortably. “ [—you see, I really am not Count Vau- dreuil at all. I—” Her odd eyes widened. “ But surely, monsieur, I have your card in my portemonnaie,” she protested. “ And I cannot have misunderstood so ancient and honorable a title.” George gulped miserably. “Tt’s about that I want to explain,” he began. ‘“ You see, the real count—” He looked up to note that she was laugh- ing at him with her eyes. Impulsively, she placed a hand upon his, which rested upon the table top. “TI know all about it, mon ami,” she soothed. ‘‘ You see, I have known monsieur le comte for many years. And so, when that day you so importantly—oh, yes, it is I who assure you, very importantly /—pre- sented the visiting card of my good friend, naturally I was curious.’ “You didn’t act surprised,” ventured George, a little chagrined. Mme. Volontiers laughed, a delicious, contralto rill of mirth. “ Act? To the contrary, monsieur, I act- ed so well that you did not know I was acting at all! Isit not so? I wished to see Count Vaudreuil himself, and learn the truth. Naturally, he told me all. I then felt certain that I had had the honor of meeting M. George Strong, who was quite properly acting out his own little part in the drama. But ”—and her eyes shadowed as a summer cloud in an otherwise clear sky will momentarily shut off the sun—“ I must ad- mit that I telephoned for M. George Strong this day, but fully expected to meet Mon- sieur le comte de Vaudreuil. Is it by coin- cidence, then, that I have this so great pleasure? Or do you bear evil tidings? Has anything happened to—to Edouard?” In his heart, and utterly without reason, George hated the count because he had known Mme. Volontiers so long. He be- haved in consequence like a sullen boy. “J suppose you met the count at one of 677 those parties tliat got me in Dutch?” he growled. | “* But, no!” replied the little woman, after puzzling over George’s idiom. They “were speaking, half in French, half in English, piecing out one another’s efforts. “I never go to one of le comte’s so piquant parties. He would not have wish it. He regard me too highly! I tell you, we are friends from many years. Why, if you please, is he not here, since he is of a punctuality, and it is now past five?” As well and as delicately as he could, George described the invasion of the impera- tive but wholly charming countess into their little game of borrowed plumes, the count’s feeble protests, and his departure as a pris- oner, on a private car. “So,” he concluded, “I am now living in the studio, under my own name, of course.” A waiter like a melancholy crow had for some time been hovering about their table, making all sorts of excuses by flicking im- aginary specks of dust from cloths that were immaculate, rearranging napery in pre- cisely the form it held before, and had held for decades according to the traditions of the house. Mme. Volontiers shrugged. “ Perhaps it is better that we order, mon- sieur,” she suggested. ‘“ Only thus shall we gain privacy.” The moment was one of the most horrible in George’s life. For years it was to haunt him as the acme of embarrassment. How confess. the ghastly*truth? He blushed a brick red; a fine old Pompeiian red, ““J—fact is—you see, I’ve only just moved in, and in the hurry of changing my clothes I left my purse and all my money in the other coat, I know it’s inexcusable— you—” Mme, Volontiers laughed heartily, “My dear M. Georges,” she spoke kind- ly; “do not look as if your uncle had died and cut you from his will! It is a matter so simple to arrange. Me, I am well known here. I shall introduce you to the caissiére, and you may sign for whatever you like, and for as long as you choose. My recom- mendation is sufficient.” She started to signal the waiter, when comicbookscor