Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

DOUBLES AND QUITS. She went up-stairs ostensibly to change the sequined frock for something less weighty, but when she came down again not only had she changed her frock, but her manner had altered. Her face was so white that her gray eyes looked almost black by contrast, and her lips were twisted in that insolent smile which Peter feared and hated. “Amy,” he said, catching her by the shoulders, “ do you take drugs?” It was an unexpected challenge and had come to Peter Tremlett by sheer inspiration alone. He lacked any former experience to guide him. She laughed in his face. ** Don’t be a fool. I’m tired, if you must know. Sometimes I take a little—a little veronal to stave off a headache. Peter, be an angel and open a bottle of fizz.” He moved reluctantly to do her bidding, and while he was out of the room Loraine stretched herself on a couch, yawning deli- cately. ““That was a near shave,” she muttered to herself. ‘‘ Wonder what put the idea into his head?” She looked lovely in her mysterious and rather sinister fashion as she ‘lay on the couch, her arms raised above her head with the sleeves falling away from them. The gown itself was everything the heart of a sophisticated woman could desire, a dream frock of white lace and velvet and heavy bands of chinchilla fur. Peter Tremlett came back -with a tray. He had brought two glasses, one for him- self as well as one for her. He placed it on a table beside the couch and sat on a big, stuffed cushion close to his wife. She pegged for a cigaret and he humored her. She lay with half-closed eyes, looking out into the garden, and Tremlett touched one of her bare arms, caressing it softly. Why, he wondered, did he love and hate her at the same time? Assuredly she was not the Amy of his dreams, but the fasci- nation of her stole away his senses. “The garden is wonderful!” she ex- claimed. “I wish it were really Japan.” He bent down and kissed her arm. “* Are you happy, Amy?” _ She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t meant to be happy,” she replied. 109 Now, if ever, was the moment for him to lay that ghost. But before he could think how to introduce the ugly subject, his wife gave a little cry and raised herself on one elbow. “Peter, there’s some one out there watching us—a man! Heavens! Where has he got to now?” ** Nonsense!” “ But I tell you I saw as clearly as any- thing. A dreadful face—as though he ' wanted to kill me. He looked straight into my eyes.” Peter got up, and as he did so a tall form sprang into the window framed against the background of softly lighted garden—the form of a man, gaunt and bearded, with ‘eyes staring like a madman’s. ‘* The curse of God be on you both!” he cried hoarsely. ‘“ May He be as merciful to you as you have been to me.” And then the form vanished, melting into the velvety darkness as a shadow among shadows. He was gone. Loraine’s teeth were chattering and she clung to her husband. “ Peter, rouse the servants. He must be an escaped lunatic. Oh, did you hear what he said? Poor creature! But I’m terribly afraid. He might come back.” Half frozen with the terrifying surprise of it, Tremlett stared at his wife. Was it possible that Amy hadn’t recognized the fellow? Peter himself had seen under the disguise of beard and the appearance of premature age—he had seen that ghost in the living flesh, Dick Marshall; and he had been cursed. His wife’s entreaties made an effect upon him at last. He closed and locked the windows and drew the curtains. The lights In the garden were switched off. But he did not call the servants or make a search for the intruder. “T think you ought to ring up the po- lice,” Loraine implored. Tremlett shook his head. He wondered at her. Was she acting? Was it possible she hadn’t known? “ Peter, it isn’t right to let a man like that be at large, prowling about. Perhaps he’s one of your men with a grudge against you.” comicloool C©