The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

118 A man and a girl had stopped a min- ute while she pulled the stem of a rose through his buttonhole. It required quite a little adjusting and they both laughed again. It was such a wonderful day to do things; not bad things nor wild things, but sunshiny, woodsy, fieldy, frolicky, friendly things, the kind one does with a pal or a nice girl. “Oh, Lord!” Chard groaned again. “Think of a real girl, a laughing, sensible, comfortable, lovable girl with ruffles and slippers and ideas and eyelashes and a sash!” The picture he conjured flooded him with sick lonesomeness. His brown eyes, intended for twinkling, stared unseeing down the street. His big, generous mouth, fashioned for laughing, had forgotten its purpose and was grimly fixed in a straight line. Outside, the sunshine and leaves made dancing checker-boards of light and shade. “T am going out,” announced Chard Willis, desperately, “And I am going out with a girl!” The telephone was down in the empty hall. Chard ran down-stairs and opened the book at random. “The first name that I see,” he decided, “and I won’t stop till I get one, but heavens, what kind of a girl will go!”’ He looked down at the open page. “Parker, Miss Angelique. 136 Leavitt’s Lane. 1281.” He lifted the receiver. “1281,” he called firmly. There was only a second’s pause. _ “Ves?” said a feminine voice in his ear. “May I speak with Miss Angelique Parker ?”’ “T am Miss Angelique Parker.” “Oh, good afternoon, Miss Parker. I called up to ask if you would go out this afternoon, driving or walking or any way you like.” ““Wh—what did you say?” The words came in a startled gasp. “‘Did somebody ask me to go walking? Who is speaking, please?” THE ARGOSY. “My name is Chard Willis.” He was going to be cheap but he wouldn’t be sneaking cheap. “I’m in Mr. Manning’s office, the architect, you know. I don’t know a soul in town and it’s such a won- derful day and I’ve been alone four months. I’ve simply got to have some- body.” “But how did you hear of me?” “T chose your name from the telephone- book.” “Oh-h. I see. So I owe this pleasure to the telephone book?” Chard laughed with quick embarrass- ment. His burst of confidence was sud- denly over. ‘“‘Won’t you please excuse me, Miss Parker? I might have known better. If you'll only forget it happened—”’ “No, no! Oh, please don’t ring off! I just had to think a minute. I believe I’d rather like to know you!” Chard laughed again, in relief this time. “Good! What will you do? Where can I meet you?” “T really can’t go walking or driving but couldn’t you come to see me? It’s ever so summery here, all yellow and green. J think you would like it.” There was a quaint, whimsical note in her voice that was winning. “T think I’d like you!” cried Chard, impulsively. ‘“‘You sound—nice!”’ “Oh, I’m nice. I’m as nice as I can be. I shouldn’t wonder if you went quite — }?? crazy about me. People have “T’m frightfully particular,’ Chard gig- gled back, ‘‘though you might not guess it from my—my methods. I’ll have to warn you that I detest scant skirts!” “Scant skirts!” scornfully. “Why, xo- body wears scant skirts any more! Mine is yards around!” “T breathe again! Do you skulk around in heelless shoes?” “T have on a perfectly fetching pair of slippers!” ‘““You encourage me to touch upon one more point. Do you jamb your fists down in the pockets of your sweater when you stride along?” COMMICLOOOK (C@)