Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 56 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION was to be resumed in another four days. “John, my dear fellow, you look ill,’ were the first words he heard as he walked in the front door. ‘‘He does, doesn’t he?’? George turned to Ray- son for confirmation. “You look terrible, Mr. Montague,”’ Rayson agreed. In spite of his protestations, he found himself hustled up to his bedroom and put into bed. Maybe he was ill and his friends were doing the right thing. They were so grimly determined that he should do as they ordered. Then they both looked dif- ferent. They were full of confidence and assured of themselves. They both looked younger, probably because they were fit and he was so tired and depressed. During the night he dis- covered that his door was locked. He had decided to steal down to the Crystal Palace and see his plants and the blooms, which must be at their best by now. He went back to bed and slept, troubled by dreams and vague feelings of disaster. In four days he left his room, only to be escorted to the station and safely put on the train. Every effort to see the flowers had failed. They had gently, but firmly, over-ridden him. He almost felt their sigh of relief as the train started to move, yet all the time they kept up the farce of small talk and regretful goodbyes. He did consider sneaking back to see what happened while he was away, but there was the repugnance of spying on his friends. Not that he would be away for long this time, and he might be able to bring old Physis back with him. In this way he consoled himself, though the whole affair was disturbing. More pond weeds for dis- cussion, and then the joy of seeing Physis. They met in his hotel bedroom where they would be free to talk without interruption. **Tell me, Chlorella,’ John 128 comiclooks.conm