Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

240 Tarton, laughing, was already out of his seat, pursuing it. Their fingers touched as she reached it to him across the table. “ That breeze—”’ he began. , “Wasn’t it funny!” she said, laughing back. “ Just as though it knew we wanted to get acquainted, and was bound to help us out!” “What!” he stammered, reddening. “You don’t mean that you—you thought of it—you’re not lonesome, too?”’ She nodded, mischievously grave. “Tye been watching you a week, won- dering when you were going to begin to be sociable. You’ve wasted a lot of perfectly good time, you know. I would have smiled at you the first day, if you had tried. That would be perfectly proper, as long as we are both in such a respectable place. But I suppose you must be from Boston, so of course you couldn’t even /ook at me with- out an introduction. And then this hap- pened, so we didn’t have to pretend any more.” “You’re mistaken,” “Tm not from Boston. other —I wanted, awfully, to—to smile, anyway, but I guess I’m a little old-fash- ioned—”’ He dropped the sentence, half done. A curious change had come over the girl. _ As she spoke, her eyes had dropped un- consciously to the slip, which she was hold- ing face up. At sight of what was written on it, her cheeks went white. Her eyes widened in surprise, her hand dropped his and flew to her throat. ‘““Why—why—” she stammered, look- ing up. ‘‘ Why—what—what do you want —with that? I mean,” she corrected hast- ily, “I’m surprised that any one—you mustn’t call for that book!” Tarton stared his astonishment. She had slumped down into her chair, her cheeks flushing and paling alternately. In the midst of his surprise—and pretty consider- able surprise, at that—he kept thinking, round and round in a foolish, infatuated circle—how wonderful she_was—her hair, and her eyes, of soft, warm gray, and her mouth. What was the matter? He pulled himself about half-way down to earth. laughed ‘Tarton, And as for the’ THE ARGOSY. ‘ Why—why not?” he demanded.. “ I’m writing an article—on Egypt. I must have it. What’s the matter with it, anyway? Why mustn’t I see it?” She was recovering herself. She laughed deprecatingly, her confusion evident in the handkerchief which she was twisting into knots in her fingers. She had been very indiscreet, and she was realizing it. “Well—I don’t know anything about it,” she temporized. ‘‘ That is, anything that I can tell. Anything that you have a right to know. It’s—” “That J have a right to know,” he ex- claimed. ‘‘ Why haven’t I? As much as anybody? What’s in the thing, anyway?” She’stood up suddenly, mistress of her- self once more. And Tarton knew that he would never find out. “I’m sorry,” she said, smiling frankly.. “TI spoke impulsively. I was—as you saw —a good deal surprised. But I oughtn’t to have been. I shouldn’t have said a word. It’s—it’s something that doesn’t concern you—that can’t possibly interest you. Only others. But—what I said is nevertheless true. It would be — dangerous ” — she spoke very deliberately, he noticed, as she chose that word—* very dangerous knowl- edge indeed, for you to have. You must drop the matter here. Forget it—and for- get me. Neither—”’ ! ‘““ Forget you!” he interjected. ‘‘ Why? How can I? If you imagine, after this—” ‘““ Neither of us,” she finished, ‘ will do you any good. We—” . ‘“ Neither of you—will do me good!” he exploded. ‘‘ I don’t want to be done good. I want to know you, and I want this book. There’s an article in it I have to have be- fore to-morrow, besides whatever else it is that interests you so, and belongs to no one else. Of course, I want to see that now. I’m going to see it. Anyway, it’s preposter- ous to get so excited over a plain magazine. The thing was published, wasn’t it? It came out publicly and went to the sub- scribers, and all around. If I can’t get a copy here—I’ll go elsewhere. Of course I can get it—and of course I will—”’ ‘““T didn’t intend to tell you you mustn’t look at it,” she interrupted gently. course, I couldn’t do that. I think what I EOmIcbooks, “Of |