Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

GOTHAM’S WIFE. He hurried on, seeing the fright this had brought to her face. ‘It’s not going to be anything like that. I’m just going to see him and get everything straight.” “‘ Even then, it will only make a scene,” his wife implored. ‘‘ You cari’t go there and do that. Think of what it would do to us socially —and then your business! No, it’s ridiculous to think of it any further.” “But I’m not going to let it go this way!’ Duane cried. ‘“ He’s wronged you —you who belong to me! I’ve got to do something. Everything within me is cry- ing out to fight. If you didn’t belong to me I might not feel this terrific yearning with- in me to kill.”” He paced up and down the floor and wiped his forehead with his hand- kerchief which he kneaded into a lump be- tween his hands. ‘ And my head!” he breathed painfully. ‘My head’s simply bursting.” Judith felt his hot dry hand. “Tm afraid you’re not well,” she said anxiously. ‘“ You simply must stop worry- ing about this ridiculous thing. You'll be getting a fever.” “Tl be all right as soon as this thing is settled. But now it’s driving me to dis- traction: there’s a sort of strain here in my head. I’m afraid it’s getting the better of me. In the subway I saw—” He checked himself before confessing to a ridiculous fear at his own reflected face. ‘“ Well, it was nothing —just a sort of a—well, a whim. And in the club I felt as if I were in a box, dnd being | crushed so that I could not move my arms.’ “That’s nothing,” his wife reassured him like a mother talking to a child who has been dreaming. “TI should think you would always feel that way at the club.” Duane did not hear her. @He was rum- maging through a portfolio of drawings in search of a charcoal sketch Chantry had presented to his wife. His immediate in- tent in hunting for this picture was vague in his mind. He felt that it might be a key to the relations the artist sustained to- wards Judith. When Duane did find the drawing he read the insignificant words: “To Judith Duane from Albert Cripps Chantry.’”* - 7 S y Go ogle 635 The picture itself struck a responsive chord in Duane’s breast. As he held it to the light everything else about the room— the sparkling chandeliers above, the slender teakwood table, the faience pottery and the hooded fireplace beneath—faded into a monotone of shadow. All the light, like all Duane’s jealousy and hate, was focused upon that one point. He saw the face of a woman, “pale, dis- tinct, and with a touch of a strange emo- tion upon it. For a moment he could see nothing but that oval light in the smirchy charcoal sketch. Then he noticed the wild, unkempt hair falling about the woman’s shoulders, a bone necklace about her full. tanned throat, and at her feet a huge beast. Chantry had only sketched the hideous eyes and, with broad black strokes, a form crouching and tense. The beast’s jaws were opened so that the large saber teeth stood out in the over- tone of dusky light. There was also the study of a nude man in heavy black, al- -most like a cartoon. An epic hero he was, with a brawny neck, hairy chest and legs. In his hands he held a stone ax ready to crash upon the skull of the black leopard. A great thrill passed through Duane. Every hint of civilization had vanished . from his memory. The ages of history seemed to crumble and leave just that one vision of a cave and a man protecting his woman from a beast. His own problem, he realized, was not the problem of courts and decrees—it was the cave-man’s. .“ What’s wrong, dear,” Judith was say- ing. ‘‘ Your forehead’s wet. You’re trem- bling all over!” Duane looked into her face. “ It’s that picture,” he said; “it touched something in here. It’s made me understand—made me decide.” “Why, how ridiculous, Gary! Just a drawing, and the critics said it was a hor- rible thing because it appealed to the ani- mal in us.” “Yes, that’s it—to the animal. That’s just what it appeals to—if there is any- thing animal in this city!” Duane raised his voice excitedly. the club say there’s no more of the elemen- tal hero in us. But there is! There is! ‘“T heard the men at. l (C(O) Nac DOOK