Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

ra’ pe oa om ~ bie? a — . =s5 i, -w - —_ : ; a « ~<a v- + . - . - ae b« one = —- ar a . ' - st * ma a | BLACK MAGIC “was cooked; and the fact that this “r-r-ready!”’ from his’ =< houseboy startled him so much that he cut his chin showed very — clearly how deep in thought he had been once more. Stancil the blood with a towel, he muttered a curse. The evening paper lay on the table, neatly folded beside his plate. He opened it and tried to interest himself in the news.. ““'There’s too much pepper in the soup again, tell Cook!” he | barked at Simin, with a violence in which he himself heard the note of exaggeration, of unbalance. In view of the state of inner confusion and turmoil he seemed to be in this evening, he thought _ it best not to carry out his original intention to talk to Simin — about the latter’s guest, at the back there, in the garden. His ~ voice might give him away... In the meantime Simin had rushed zealously to the kitchen, to report the tuan’s criticism of the soup to Cook. Loudly and demonstratively, so that his master could hear it properly, he told her off: “ Tuan marah . .. the master’s angry! ‘The soup was too hot again! ” x Cook grumbled something in reply that Mr. Van Houten could not hear. Nor could he see the scared expression on her old face—or the impudent laugh on Simin’s. When, a few moments later, Simin brought in the roast beef, boiled potatoes, and green peas, the Javanese mask of that per- fect houseboy’s face was as composed and sedate as ever. Not a trace was to be seen on it of the rascally grin he had just shown in the kitchen. With the utmost attention and devotion he bent with the dishes over his master, who sat at the head of the table in solitary splendour, tall and imposing, with a white tuft of cotton-wool stuck on his scarlet chin. “Ts tuan going out presently?” Simin asked, bringing in the vanilla blancmange which had been the sweet every evening as — long as he could remember, and emptying the jug of strawberry syrup over it with an elegant movement of the hand. Mr. Van Houten nodded absently, his nose buried in his paper. However, the meaning of the question seemed slow in penetrat- ing to him; it was some time before he looked up and answered the houseboy with the counter-question: “‘ Why? What’s the matter? ”’ Simin assumed his most engaging expression. ‘‘ Oh, nothing, tuan. But... there’s a fair on in the Koningsplein.”’ “You can all go out if you like; I don’t need anyone any more tonight.” “ Terima kaseh, tuan!”” Simin thanked him, overjoyed. At that moment Ngadi sauntered past outside in the garden comichooks.conl