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Pulp Fiction, 1907 · page 154 of 228

The Argosy, March 1907 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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The Argosy, March 1907 — page 154: Pulp Fiction, 1907

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- VT “Ata 726 Again I bowed. Suddenly she leaned toward me, and spoke even more softly: © “You mean to be kind. Which is better—a painless death, now, here, or weeks of torture and a hideous, shame- ful death at the end?” I was silent, dismayed by the inexora- ble truth that sounded in her voice. “ But ” I began weakly. “There is no ‘ but ’—it is one or the other. There is only the choice. It is the painless death, now; or, after a time of horror, the ghastliest of all deaths.” “You must be mistaken,” I exclaimed, looking up again. But my eyes fell before the despair- ing intensity of hers. ‘“Mistaken! Do you think I don’t know? Well, listen: I have just mur- dered my husband!” IIT. I sat huddled in my chair, unnerved by the shock of her words. The worst of it was that I could not doubt her. Truth spoke in every accent. Nor was she mad. My intuition taught me that she was as sane as lI, though strained to the breaking-point of emotion. Yet, that one so young, so beautiful, more girl than woman, so evidently pure, could be a murderess! The thought was monstrous—a _ prof- anation. the silence. At last, she spoke again, still leaning close to me, hers voice scarcely above a whisper, yet thrilling with her passion. “You mean to be kind. Learn your mistake. You shall judge: ‘“T have been married just a year to- day. I adore my husband. For three months he has neglected me. Often he does not return home until late at night. I have reproached him. I have shown him my heart. He has only one excuse— business. ‘““{ do not know who the woman is. It is enough that he has ceased to love me. His tenderness does not deceive me. I have threatened to kill myself. I showed him the vial of poison you have taken. He pleaded with me, but he be- came even more irregular.. “And to-day, to-night, the anniver- I could find no word to break - es ee oe ee SO eg eee Ce ee = ne: tae = es Sg THE ARGOSY. sary of our marriage, I planned a little feast in its honor. And he did not come. He sent no word. He was with that other woman—he had forgotten the day, and the bride he swore to love.”’ She was silent for a minute. I stole a look at her. Her eyes were staring at vacancy, dilated, fearful in the agony they revealed. Then they turned suddenly to me, and again mine fell. I could not bear to look on her misery. “That was the end,” she said finally. ‘““T could not eat, nor read, nor talk. I shut myself in my boudoir—away from the pitying eyes of the servants; they, even, knew me for a thing scorned. “T got the vial. full of water. I poured in part of the poison—a drop is enough. ‘Then _ be- fore drinking it I let my head fall on my arms, as I sat leaning on the table. I must have swooned.”’ Again silence. But I did not lift my eyes—I did not dare. Presently: ‘When, at last, I raised my head, I saw standing opposite me my husband. And at his lips was the fatal glass. Even as.my eyes cleared and I realized the horror of it all, he set the glass down—empty.” IV. SHE spoke more rapidly now, a cer- tain fierceness of suffering in the tones. “One instant I stared at him, his eyes in mine. poison had him in its gripe—in another second he would fall dead before my eyes. My soul shriveled within me; my blood was like ice. I could not bear to see his glazing eyes, hear the death-rattle in his throat. “I went mad then for a little. I re- member only that I fled shrieking from the room, from the house. ‘Then, after an interval, I found myself here—here, where I have been so often with him!” The grisly narrative held me in its thrall. My heart was full of horror at the tragedy, yet with the horror was min- gled pity for the suffering .woman. “You understand now,” she said. “The law will put me to death for the murder of my husband.” “ You did not murder him,” I declared eagerly. Gomichboo ee, a A ee ee = *. a SS ee Rt mengig es at OE ON LE S + 3 ~ ee Ae « eT EN I filled a glass half | I knew that already the <SiiGO mM