Argosy: The Short Story Magazine — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

“ al re ‘ a .+a THE GOOD CORN 41 ‘* Joe,” she said, “ that doesn’t seem right, does it? It doesn’t seem fair.” Joe did not answer. “Tt doesn’t seem fair. It’s not right. It seems cruel,” she said. The following night she could not sleep again. She heard a westerly wind from across the valley beating light squalls of rain on the windows of the bedroom. The air was mild in a sudden change, and she lay with her arms outside the coverlet, listening to the rain washing away the snow. Suddenly Joe took hold of her hands and began crying into them. “I didn’t know what I was doing. She kept asking me. It was her who kept asking me.”’ She could not speak and he turned his face to the pillow. “I didn’t think you wanted me. You used to say so. I got so as I thought you didn’t want me any more. You used to say—” ‘““] want you,” she said. ‘‘ Don’t be afraid of that.” ‘ Did she say anything? ”’ he said. ‘“* Did she say it was me? ” “No. She didn’t say.” ** Did you think it was me? ”’ ‘““T’d begun to think,” she said. “I thought I could tell by the way you couldn’t look at her.” She heard him draw his breath in dry snatches, unable to find words. Suddenly she was sorry for him, with no anger or reproach or bitterness, and she stretched out her long bare arms. ‘“Come here to me,” she said. ‘“‘ Come close to me. I’m sorry. It was me. It was my fault.” ‘* Never,” he said. “‘ Never. I won’t have that.” “‘ Listen to me,”’ she said. “* Listen to what I say.” As she spoke she was aware of a feeling of being uplifted, of a depressive weight being taken from her .. . ‘Listen, Joe, if I ask her perhaps she’ll give it to us. You remember? She gave the other away.”’ “No,” he said. ‘‘ You couldn’t have that—”’ ‘“‘T could,” she said. She began smiling to herself in the dark- ness. “ ‘Tomorrow I'll ask her. We could do it properly—make it legal—so that it was ours.” | “If you forgive me,” Joe said. ‘‘ Only if you do that.” “I forgive you,” she said. She went through the rest of the winter as if she were carrying the baby herself. “‘ You mustn’t do that, Elsie. Don’t lift that,’ she would say. ‘“ Take and lie down for an hour. Rest yourself—it’ll do you the world of good to rest.” She looked forward to April with a strange acute sensation of being poised on a wire, frightened that she would fall before she got there. comiclooks.comn