Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

202 “Well, yowre wrong, just the same,” he contrived. ‘Here! You tell her that she is mistaken!”’ ‘Why should I bother to tell her any- thing?” Miss Woodbury smiled, and shrugged her very bare shoulders, and ad- dressed Margery Poole directly. ‘‘ Oh, my dear! My dear!” she said compassionately. “Your estimate of your own intelligence is very faulty, indeed, believe me.” “How dare you even speak to me when—” “Oh, it is!” Miss Woodbury inter- rupted acidly. ‘‘ For an alibi thought up on the spur of the moment, this impas- sioned nonsense of yours is the c’-msiest, silliest thing I ever heard im all my life, Who’s. Arthur?”’ ““ He’s my husband!” Margery flared, un- guardedly. , ‘““Oh, you have a husband, have you? Worse and more of it!” sighed the painted lady. ‘ Really, I’ve never posed as a cen- sor of morals, but I’m ferced to .ay that you’re rather a choice pair!” “Well, suppose you say nothing at all for a little while!”’ George said hoarsely. ‘“‘ Margery, listen to me! I tell you, you’re wrong—dead wrong! [I never laid eyes on that. woman before to-night—I never even heard of her!” “But she knows. you and knows about Geraldine! ”’ “ Well, that—” George began, and looked about wildly for inspiration. And it was. given to him! For over there on the living-room table Aunt Amanda’s album of family photographs lay open; and George’s lips opened, too, and he dashed at it and snatched it wp, just as it was, and bore it triumphantly back to Mar- _ gery Poole. “ There!” he shouted. she got her dope, Margery! There’s the picture of Geraldine and: me, taken the week after we were married, and Aunt Amanda’s written under it—‘ George and Geraldine, married June 1o, 1918!’ There it is! Look at it!” He held the thing under her very nose, waiting for vindication. Margery Poole’s eyes merely glowed dark suspicion at him. “T see it,” she said. ‘“Isn’t it odd that “ That’s where ~ THE ARGOSY. the book lay all open like that, ready for you to show me?” ‘Well, odd or not, that’s where she got my name!” George shouted, in exasper- ation, and closed the book with a slam. They faced each other, the two ladies, as he stepped back amd thumped the album to its table. Miss Woodbury was still amused and, perhaps, just the smallest trifle bored by now. Mrs. Poole’s color was re- turning and her terror seemed to be les- sening, and determination rising im its place. _ “George Dare!” she said. ce Ves? >) ‘“T don’t know the roads, ac I’m afraid to go alone, or I’d much prefer leaving you here with vour friend,” Margery said stead- ily. “ As it is, E demand that you take me away from this place instantly! _I demand that you take me home!” “Tm more than willing to do it, Mar- gery! As for you, Miss Woodbury—or whatever your right name may happen to be—I’ll ask you to forget that you've ever | seen this lady here!” ‘““T have no doubt that I shall be able te forget yeu beth quite readily,” said the cool veice, ‘“ You're not particularly inter- esting, you know, unless one fancies these affairs—and I don’t. Yow’re going?” “ At-once!”’ said George. “Good night, then, and—er—lI’m charmed to have had the pleasure of meet- ing you both, of course. I’d like to ask you to stay longer, because it’s rather nasty out- doors, but—” Her voice trailed away. For the doz- enth time, in this last turbulent. ten minutes, Miss. Woodbury’s attention returned to the face of Aunt Amanda’s antediluvian clock, over there on the heavy mantel shelf, and she frowned. And she might go on frowning through all eternity, if she chose! It mattered not to George. Had there been a typhoon raging just. then, his sele ambition would still have been to get Margery out of Aunt Amanda’s- home—at present converted into just what sort of establishment he hardly dared think —hefere the appearance of Dr. Arthur Poole. What would happen when that genial scientist arrived, he declined to think. More Gomichoo SS (E@)