Argosy, September 1955 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

SUMMER IN SALANDAR 45 domesticity, feeling contemptuous of people like Manuel who saw it as a formidable and fearsome thing. At the same time the feeling grew on him also that Miss Vane was slightly afraid. "That was why she wanted him to walk with her; that was why she would ask him now and then if he still wanted to go to the top. He had the increasing impression too that she had something on her mind. Perhaps that was why she was continually so forgetful of things like her handbag. Halfway through the morning one of his shoe-laces came undone. He had not brought with him very suitable shoes for walking and the best he could find that day was a pair of old canvas sandals with rubber soles. As he stooped to tie the shoe-lace Miss Vane stopped to wait for him. He had some difficulty with the shoe-lace and was afraid of breaking it. When he looked up again Manuel had disappeared and Miss Vane was alone, staring at something far down a long spoon-shaped gorge of rock. His feelings at seeing her there alone gave him a sort of buoyancy. His shoes were soft on the path. He had nothing to do but creep up to her and put his hands on her hair and turn her face to him and kiss her. Before he could do anything she turned and pointed down the gorge and said, “‘ There’s something down there. Do you see? Right down. A house or something—two or three houses.” “Yes. They’re houses,” he said. “1 didn’t think there were villages. up here.” “It’s a longish way away,” he said. ‘“ Probably two or three hours by path.” “We must ask Manuel about it,”’ she said. His illusion of buoyancy died, and when they walked on again he automatically fell into the way of walking behind her until she reminded him about it and held out her hand. ‘Before lunch, which Manuel laid in a small clearing of pines, in one of those places where water dripped like summery rain from fissures of cacti-studded rock, Manuel asked her stiffly, ‘‘ Would you like something to drink before you eat, madame?” - “I would,” she said. ‘‘ What is there? ”’ *“‘’'There’s beer, madame,”’ he said. ‘* And gin.” “What gin is it? ’’ Manson said. - _“*'The best, sir.” Manuel held up the bottle and Manson said, “Good. We don’t want any local muck. Ill have gin too.” He drank the gin rather quickly and, looking out over the enlarg- ing, stoppering view of high rock, with its sliced-out gorges stream- less far below, he used exactly the words Miss Vane had used on the journey up with the mules. ‘Well, this is marvellous,’ he said. The village of obscure white houses seemed of paltry insignificance, far away. “ It’s absolutely marvellous, I think. Don’t you?” “It’s lovely.” “I think it’s stunning. How far to the top, Manuel? ” “This is as far as the track goes, sir,’’ Manuel said. comicbooks.conn