Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

Shieh -do it. 900 “A wonderful piece of luck!” repeated Mrs. Groote. “TI don’t believe I could do it,” I told her. ‘I should be so awfully nervous— in front of all those people!” “Don’t be absurd,” she said sharply. When she was displeased, all the hardness in her face came out. ‘ Of course, you can I told you you might have to do exhibition dancing now and then. All you want is a little practice with de Vosca. We will manage that.” ‘“T would really rather not,” I said. I was getting nervous. “It would be madness to refuse. I was thinking of your interest, too, Miss Fane. Why, you will dance before all smart Lon- don! And the girl he’s going to marry, Lady Cleveland, is the richest girl in the world, and, knowing the king is so keen on - dancing, she may want to know your ex- act steps and she may engage you to give her some lessons. Why, my dear girl, it may be the making of you!” “TJ don’t think I really feel up to it,” I murmured. “ Don’t be ridiculous! This is no time to run yourself down. You're the best dancer I’ve ever seen.” I couldn’t say any more then. I should have to find some way out. Of course, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take the risk. If I were found out, it would be the end of everything. And I was bound to show up at the féte myself. The king came fairly early, and we danced every dance. “ T’ye booked you up for the whole eve- ning,” he told me, laughing. I couldn’t help being struck by the irony of it—his paying for the time of his wealthy bride! And for the first time I suffered a pang of remorse at my deception and felt that it was not quite fair. And a sort of panic seized me. When he found out, would he be so angry that he could not forgive me. Some day he would have to find out. I tried to harden my heart by thinking of the other women in his life. But I couldn’t. I knew that his anger would make me abjectly miserable. All through the evening Peter became ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, more and more silent. His face was clouded over and there was a dark look in his eyes. But I knew that I had not displeased him, for every now and then, he said in a whis- per: ‘Look at me, Betty. I love you.” By midnight I had a sort of drugged feel- ing. My steps became mechanical. All the spring had gone out of my dancing. The king, too, moved automatically; and at the end of a dance, he said: ““T’ve had enough to-night, Betty. I must talk to you. I have things to say—I can’t say them here. Let me walk home with you.” “Tt’s a gala night,” I answered. ‘I shall have to stay. I may be wanted.” “Of course not! Didn’t I tell you I’d bought you—for to-night?” His voice was teasing and tender. I smiled a little sadly. Hadn’t I bought him—for the rest of my life? . Just then the strains of the “ Sable Night ” waltz fell on our ears. “We'll dance this one, Betty,” Peter said. ‘It shall be our last.” We danced it, encore after encore. Toward the end-a madness entered into us —the madness of the music and the words— “We will dance to-morrow; we have danced to-day!” | “* Ah, that wild, free, glorious dance! We seem to be as one. Our breaths mingled. Peter’s eyes blazed into mine, fiery blue. There was nothing between us; our hearts beat for each other; we were outside the world. For one short triumphant spell of time I knew that I was the one woman in the world to him. I was quite exhausted when it was over. “Come away now,” whispered Peter. “TH meet you outside.” I obeyed him. I couldn’t have done any- thing else then. I was as if bound by a spell. I saw nobody as I went out. Peter was at the side entrance. He took my arm in silence, and we started off. “ Betty,” he said, “ I’ve got to go away to-morrow. Isn’t it cursed luck? That was our last waltz.” This was news to me. I felt my heart give a leap of fear. What had happened? IT had not seen him that day, although we (COMME OO KS4EC) in