Argosy, Vol. 147, No. 1 — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

HEY were a striking couple, the sil- very blonde at the corner table and her dark-haired, thin companion. Striking, not only because of their opposite coloring, but because of the contrast in the expression with which each regarded the other. Even a most casual observer in the inexpensive restaurant on Fifth Avenue near Twenty-Sixth Street would have known at once that Lois McAllister saw Oliver as the one man in all the world. The walls about them were cold white tile. The imitation marble-topped table between them was cool and sticky. Only the ice cream they were eating and the smile on Lois’s lips were soft and warm. She looked at him now, through a yearn- ing, violet-tinted haze of adoration tinged By HELEN HYSELL 151 , rr’. with sadness. And Oliver, momentarily overcome by a fit of coughing, re head to glare at her, belligerently. “You’ve simply got to take hat col out of this climate, Ollie, old cea,” Lois. “ California is—” ie es Oliver’s mirthless laugh interrupted h “Tt takes a blonde to tell a fellow: © 1 to do when she knows he can’t ae grumbled. ‘ Maybe you think T } go in a minute if I could stop coughi long enough to make a decent haul. 1 IT can’t. Only last week, when I y as pro ing that joint in Yonkers, I ery and make a get-away before som thought the chimney had the c or UD. Oliver Ohle was, or had been a and a prosperous one. His comi books.com * . — ~ re 14 ; . ae eae ~ War ar r “eZ ff”. tiwag