Argosy, September 1955 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

52 H. E. BATES wanted to go. He recalled his own exultation of rising above Manuel and the bird in the sky. It seemed so ridiculous now that he could only say, ‘‘ I didn’t want to go either. I hate the damn place.” He sat there for a long time, trying to put on his shoe. He could smell the old corrupt dark smell of blood as it dried. The shoe would not go back and there was something crushed and twisted about the swollen shape of his foot. Long before he gave up trying with the shoe, he knew somehow that the foot was not going to take him home. But now, trying to be bright about things, he said, ‘‘ They say it’s an ill wind. Now you’ll probably get an extra day to catch the Alacantra.”’ She did not answer. “You are going to catch it, aren’t you? ”’ i 9 Yes.”’ Then he wished that something more spectacular had happened back on the path. There was nothing very dramatic, after all, in cutting a slice or two out of your foot. ‘“* IT know her captain,” he said. “‘ I’ll see that you get fixed up.” ““T can understand if you’re bitter about me,” she said. **1’m not bitter.” “You sound bitter.” ““ Perhaps because you kissed me up there.” Strength seemed to drain out of his body and it seemed a long time afterwards before she said, ‘‘ Kissing isn’t always the start of something. In this case it was the end.”’ “The end of what?” he said. ‘“‘ Probably me.”’ *“T’ve been running away from something. 'That’s all. When you kissed me it was the end of running.”’ He wanted to say something like ‘‘ Glad to have been of service, Miss Vane.’’ A withering breath of burning rock blew into his face. His foot pained him violently, stabbing in great throbs, and he did not answer. ““'You’ve been so sweet to me,” she said. ‘‘ Doing what I wanted.” *“ Husband or what? ”’ he said. ** Husband.” “You must give him the love of a decaying shipping clerk when you get back,”’ he said. ““He may not be there when I get back,” she said. ‘* That’s the point. But I’ve got to try.” Savagely the heat blew into his face again, and the raw weeping soreness of his foot made him sick. ** Tl bet he’s a damn louse,”’ he said. “You might call him that,’’ she said. ‘* But then that’s some- times how it is. They’re lousy and they get under your skin. You know they’re lousy and you can’t help it. You can’t fight them.” ““ Not even on mountaintops. Not even in Salandar.”’ He knew it was no use. It was no good, that way of talking. His foot seemed to enlarge and burst like a bloated blister, bringing i Se i a Sve | ee Ne ee ee eee comiclboolks.conn §