Avon Fantasy Reader No. 7 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

=_ = | WHEN OLD GoDs wakE es 97 Aiztecs, who steeped his rites in even greater cruelties and renamed him — Quetzalcoatl . . - Came again and again to thwart that other god when his a evil grew too strong .. . the Lord of Darkness, the Lord of the Dead . . ee aa Her voice died; she stood with eyes rapt, face colorless, bent as though listening. He took her by the shoulders, shook her: “Snap out of it, Joan. What’s the matter with you? You’re talking nonsense.” “Am I, Barry? It was what Kukulkan was telling me.” | She dropped her head on his shoulder; clung to him, trembling. His hands — slipped from her shoulders, drew her to him. He said huskily: © - “Coming any closer to loving me, Joan?” — ~ She raised her eyes to his, frankly, yet with something of regret lurking ain them. : “Sorry, Barry dear. But it’s still the same. ]—” He interrupted her, speaking monotonously: “Like you better than any other man | know, except Bill, of course, and I wish I could love you the way you want, but—yes, Joan, I know all that by heart now.” . . She flushed and said: “That’s not fair. After all, Bill’s my brother and why shouldn’t I love him? And T do “ike you better than anyone else. So much so that at times—” she stopped; he repeated eagerly: “That at times?” , “Never mind. Barry, why do you want me? There are plenty of nice girls _ who like just the things you do. I know a dozen who would love you—and a any one of them would make you a perfect wife. I don’t like the things you its maker and us than win a thousand sporting trophies.” He said: “If you loved me that wouldn’t make any difference.” 3 She shook her head: “We’ve been brought up differently, Barry—and we’re both too set in our ways to change. I am anyway ...” Suddenly she laughed: “And you haven’t fooled me by this trip, Barry Manson. | Know damned well that it wasn’t any abrupt interest in the Mayans that prompted it. I’m mighty grateful to you for giving Bill the chance he’s always wanted. But I wouldn’t marry you out of gratitude, and I don’t think you'd want me to— would you, Barry?” oe Fis gray eyes narrowed: he said, brutally: “Listen, redhead. You don’t feol Mme any either. It’s damned little of highbrow or blue-stocking you’d be jf you fell in love with a man. Nature didn’t build you that way. And it would conmiclooolks.comn