Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

476 ‘“‘ But I like you all the better,” he said quickly, trying to possess himself of her hand. ‘‘ Not that I’m so particular myself. Only—when a fellow cares for a girl he’d just as soon she didn’t smoke and drink and—well, you know how it is. You’ve got great talent—yet often and often lately I’ve thought you really didn’t belong on the stage. Now, ain’t that funny?” Amy let him hold her hand for a few seconds, then she slipped it gently away on the pretext of straightening her hat. For some time she had meditated making a confession to Simon Punter that might per- haps save them both a little pain and mis- understanding in the future. ‘‘Simon, there’s something I think it’s only fair to tell you,” she said m her shy, hesitating way. “I know you're rather fond of me—”’ He interrupted with a con- vulsive sigh, and she went on hurriedly: ‘Simon, [’m a married woman— Oh, wait, please! Don’t stare at me like that. I’ve been married for nearly two years.” . ‘Well, where in hell is your husband?” Simon exclaimed darkly. A little differently expressed, Amy herself might have given vent to. the same question. ‘“‘T don’t know,” she said with a forlorn quiver of the lips. “Who is he?” ‘““Nobody you ever heard of.” “How’s that? You've been working under me for five years now. I knew every blessed fellow that ever looked at you, and that speaks well for my powers of observa- tion.” “You wouldn’t know this one; you never saw him.” ‘ What’s his name?” ‘Please, Simon—don’t ask me to tell you. There are reasons why I’d rather not.” Simon was angry and disappointed. “‘ Deserted you, did he?” “Not exactly. He couldn’t help him- ce le ee “In jail!” Fhe astute litthe man had jumped to a quick conclusion. Amy flushed deeply. How on earth had she conveyed that impression? “The fact remains that I’m married. Perhaps you won’t be so anxious to star me ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. now. But I couldn’t go on letting you think—” ‘Qh, cut that out! Of course I’m up- set. Can’t help it. But it’s up to you to say whether it’s going to make any differ- ence between us or not. We’ve always.been good friends. My wife never had any rea- son to be jealous of you, although she was. Women are like that. I expect your hus- band would be jealous of me—that is, if he’s fond of you.” Amy brushed her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. “ Oh, if only I knew where he was!” she cried softly. ‘Or if he knew where to find me. I wish I could tell you everything, Simon, but I can’t. It isn’t only my own secret, and besides you’d think I was com pletely mad. But my husband and I have lost each other. I’m always looking for him —everywhere. In the streets—everywhere. When the curtain goes up and I smile out at the audience, it’s always with the hope that he may be there and recognize me. Only, perhaps he wouldn’t, because of the make-up and wigs. And I don’t even know whether he’s in London or not. Indeed, it’s searcely probable.” ‘“ He’s out of ‘ quod,’ then,’’ Simon ob- served. “ Well, why doesn’t he look you up? Ashamed?” ‘He had nothing to be ashamed of,” she replied hotly. ‘‘ But he doesn’t know where I am.” ee say, you must be clean dotty. You’ve lived in Lawrence Street for five years to my certain knowledge. It wouldn’t be much trouble for this mysterious gent you say you're married to, to give you a call there, would it? Or drop you a card, Look here, Loraine, do you know what I think this is? It’s a neat little ‘ frame-up’ to make me keep my distance. All right. If you think it’s necessary. I thought we were friends— I hoped we’d be something more one. of these days—but you’ve spoiled everything for me now. I wouldn’t of believed it, Lorame, that you’d go and make up a story like that—” ‘Oh, Simon, on my word of honor, I haven't made it up!” ‘“Huh! Tell that to somebody else and maybe they'll believe you. I don’t. I sup- COMmMiCbMoolks.Gom