Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

Y oe 5 el. Re oe. pe ee Frente © ie ee EO aan ee a = ins = = os ——_ Tt > SS So eee a. A ee LL 2 a le Re Tm ere et ie iy ne => i + i a — m ~ eee => = 716 more. If he found out I was Elizabeth Cleveland and Betty Fane, he would never forgive me. His bride must not come to such places, laugh and dance and shout and wear paper caps and sit with him in the moonlight, sipping iced drinks. No—he would never forgive her. His heart might forgive, but his pride never would. I was caught in.a trap. “But I am not a musician,” said Peter disconsolately. In my overwrought state I laughed again. It sounded so ridiculous—the King of Flo- rania deploring the fact that he was not a musician in the orchestra at the Jetée Promenade. Peter laughed, too. “You are right, Betty. We must be gay about it. We can’t help ourselves. We have had to-night. That’s what I love about you so—you are so merry; you take things just as they come. I suppose it’s be- cause you are free. Oh, Betty, how I wish I had your freedom! All the magic in the world in your little feet—free to pick and choose and go where you like! Why, if I had to earn your living, I couldn’t do a thing—except perhaps drive a car.” ‘““T think,” I answered demurely, ‘‘ you might join me as a dancing partner, Peter!” “What a glorious idea! Then you could never dance with anybody else.” After a short period of silence he asked suddenly: ‘“ Betty, have you ever had a lover?” ‘“ No,” I answered simply. Another silence, and then another ques- tion: “Betty, how would you like to go to Florania?”’ “IT don’t know,” I said: “ Of course, it could be managed. We have some dancing clubs in my capital. Oh, Betty, how wonderful it would be if you had a little flat on the big shady boulevard by the side of the Central Canal, and a job at the Osteria Club, or better still at the Pavilion Vert outside the city. I could come there from time to time. But we could meet at other times—” He broke off, and his eyes flamed into oa. Fs ee ey Be « ¥ eT Se emt an AB Oe 08 * ep . ve eS —~ <e » E * 7 = on a — >. gos in = om < ie - —_ ~ > sa aE et - ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, mine out of the softly lighted gloom. His voice was harsh. say?” He leaned nearer and gripped my hands. He leaned nearer still and I felt his breath on my face and then his lips burning my throat. I gave a choked cry. He drew back, His voice came gently, laden with bitter regret. ‘No, Betty, it wouldn’t do. It’s a dream —that’s all. I couldn’t have you so near me. It would drive me mad. All or noth- ing with you, my sweetheart.” “Peter,” I whispered, “you are very dear.”’ “T am a sentimental idiot,” he retorted. “And a fool! I actually thought I was forgetting you.” “ Vou will!” ‘Never, Betty, never. are you staying?” ‘“ Quite close.” ‘ Alone?” ‘““ No; with friends.” He looked at his watch. ‘I shall have to be going soon. Can I see you home?” ‘“No, thank you. right.” “T haven’t long over here. I shall have to go back to my country. We must have one day before I go—one whole long day together, Betty. You can’t say no. I will drive you up into the mountains. We will go into Italy, and have lunch at a little wayside albergo, and wander about. Now which day?” [ was disturbed. I had never been with him except in artificial light, and the night darkness outside. How could I risk a whole day in his company in the strong Riviera sunshine ? I tried to make some excuses, but he pleaded and argued and finally commanded. And I wanted to go so much. We arranged it. On Friday—that was two days hence—I was to meet him up by the observatory on the Corniche Road. ‘““T don’t want anybody to see you,” he explained. “I expect you’re quite well known in your way. I don’t want people to say that I am taking you about. The world COMicooOoKs “ Betty, what do you Listen—where I shall be quite all oO Com