Argosy (UK), January 1955 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

aa Is ae ee a ee € a . MAIDENHAIR FERN 63 _ Maidenhair Fern ... Monsieur Gustave blinked himself bolt upright. He arrived at a desperate decision. 3 He would dress, pack, and purloin Tante Mignonnette’s _ Maidenhair Fern. A note pinned to the little cushion on the ee a explaining that he had been recalled suddenly to _ Dijon, would suffice to allay T'ante Mignonnette’s alarm. He _ would be as quiet as a mouse... No, quieter! _ His toilet made, suitcase packed, his note speared to the pin- ~ cushion, Monsieur Gustave, at great pains to make no sound, x descended to the salon, negotiating the staircase, snore by snore. It was dark in the salle 4 manger and Monsieur Gustave had some trouble getting the paraffin-oil lamp going. But at last he __ achieved a fairish flame, turned to the table, fell over the foot- stool, clutched at the plush- -and-bobble table-cover in an effort to save himself, failed to—and the Maidenhair Fern came crash- _ ing down with him. “Poker!” ‘Tante Mignonnette’s voice, firm rather than frightened, gave the alarm. Monsieur Gustave fought furiously to free himself of plush- _ -and-bobbles. The ass brayed. # Es = The train to Dijon was not uncomfortably crowded. Mon- sieur Gustave found a corner seat without difficulty. The only other passenger to join him was a plump little woman, like a _ pigeon. Monsieur Gustave, who was staring moodily at the r. _ window, did not even notice her arrival. The porter carried in her luggage, placed a wicker picnic-basket beside her. ie “Be careful of the plant,” entreated the woman. “ Put it in the corner, opposite—then it can come to no harm.” The train moved off. The little woman opened the lid of her basket, drew from it a luscious morsel of cold chicken, glanced uneasily at Monsieur Gustave, and ate it in as delicate a manner as possible. But she need not have bothered to be so nice. For Monsieur Gustave was still gazing out of his steamy window, rapt in some vision of his own. And Monsieur Gustave’s vision was clear enough, for all the smoke and steam on the window in which it was mirrored. , For Monsieur Gustave was seeing the salle 4 manger of his Tante Mignonnette, who was sitting tap-tapping at the head of the table, with her near relatives grouped along both sides and an empty place at the foot . The little woman produced a bottle of wine. She epited a _ glass and held it out hospitably. But Monsieur Gustave did not notice. He was listening to a very painful conversation. > fal TN vr. oe CoOMmiclooks. com), .