Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

314 ‘Now I'll find out what this is all about!’ Larry was telling himself at the same time. The girl in the wheel-chair seemed to him even lovlier than the girl in the coupé had seemed. She wore a lacy negligée and, as outer wrapping, a blue blanket. Incredible that that blanket had been chosen to keep just any old sick person warm, and not ex- pressiy to match this particular person’s eyes! She greeted him gravely, without smiling. ‘“ Hello,” she said. “ Hello,” responded Larry. The nurse withdrew, disappointed. Here was no proper way for reunited honey- mooners to behave! She left them quite alone on the sun-porch. “Funny, isn’t it?” Larry began. “ Those ‘hellos’ are the first words either of us has ever heard the other one say, and here I’m told we are married!” “We're not married,” succinctly. ‘““ That’s a relief!” sighed Larry. The blue eyes sparked suddenly, and Ann laughed. She had a most engaging laugh. Throat-deep, contralto. It begged you to join it, and so you did. Larry did, anyway. “Such a gallant speech!” she murmured. “ Couldn’t you even pretend to be a little sorry?” “Of course I’m sorry in some ways,” Larry said composedly. ‘‘ What man wouldn’t be? But it is a relief to know that one didn’t do something one hasn’t the remotest memory ‘of ever having done. It props up a tottering faith in one’s own mentality.” “Tt would,” agreed the girl. She eyed him sideways, speculatively. ‘‘ You must be in a complete daze about the whole affair.” “To put it mildly,” added Larry to this. “Listen, then, and I’ll try to explain.” Larry grasped the wheels of his chair and manipulated them so that he was turned to squarely face her. “ Go on,” he commanded then. “Well,” said Ann, ‘“ you’re not married, as I told you. At least not to me. But I—” she hesitated, a little scowl etching the paper-white of her forehead. “Id better start over again,” she decided. Ann told him ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “My name is Ann Hale, and I live with my father in a house on Commonwealth Avenue. I haven’t any mother. She died when I was three. Well, ever since then dad and I have been the best chums im- aginable—until recently. Then he got it into his head to marry me off to a certain man, a business acquaintance of his. Of course I couldn’t endure him! He was the kind of a man who usually marries the kind of a woman who wears boudoir caps when she goes motoring, if you know what I mean. Well, anyway, dad and I had quite a rumpus about it, and finally I started play- ing around with another man whom I knew he objected to, just for the sake of revenge. Parker Peterson, his name was—is. He’s rather attractive in a Rudolph Valentino sort of way, and has a simply fascinating reputation for dark deeds of various sorts. Dad has never seen him in his life, to my knowledge, but he’s heard all about him long ago, and he absolutely forbade me ever to have anything to do with him. Of course, when he began to annoy me about this other man, Parker was the first per- son I turned to.”’ “Of course!” approved Larry Minot. Just what he would have done under the circumstances, just exactly. ‘This was several months ago,” Ann continued. “ Parker was very wonderful to me all that time. He kept telling me about his past and begging me to marry him and “make a man of him.’ You know, the old stuff. I should have known it never works out right—I’ve certainly read enough books and seen enough movies dealing with the subject to know—but I didn’t. I actually believed that any day we stood up and had the well-known words mumbled over us, re- formation and renaissance would instantly set in and Parker would grow a halo. The idea of bringing this about rather appealed to me, and so, at ten o’clock on the morn- ing of the day you and I—er—ran into each other, I went down to a justice of the peace to marry him.” At this point-Larry Minot found himself not liking the story any too well—and won- dering vaguely why. ‘IT didn’t tell anybody,” Ann went on. “Not a soul. Dad left for the office at EOPNIG OOO KS (E@)