Avon Fantasy Reader No. 8 — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

a Cok aia Mary Elizabeth Counselman achieved an unexpected fame when a storm of reader applause greeted the publishing of a short “filler” story about three marked pennies and the fates that befell their owners. She has a knack for touching the emotional springs that lie deep in men and women. The tale we now publish is such in question, a tender little account of a curious en- counter. emmes TIF first I heard of the strange Ma- demoiselle Chatte-Blanche (I shall call her this as I can not remember her real name) was that incoherent, absurd tale told me by the landlady. | “She ain’t like us,” the old lady insisted, glancing fearfully over her shoul- der and speaking in a low tone. “A furriner, she is, and a quare one! I don’t like the looks of ’er. Them eyes of hers are full of evil!” | | I suppressed a smile. “Oh now, Mrs. Bates—not that Bad, as she?”’. | said soothingly. “And you say she lives right across the hall from me, huh? I’m looking forward to meeting the lady.” | 7 “You'll come to no good, Mr. Harper, if you have any truck with the likes o her!” the old lady warned, and waddled off, shaking her head slowly. It was not until the second night after moving into Bates Boarding House that I really saw the lady. I had come in rather late from a show and was fumbling with my door-key, when a slight noise behind me caused me to turn quickly and straighten up. 7 . A woman, a tall and beautifully formed woman, stood in the half-open doorway across from mine. She was very fair, with a straight ash-blond bob ¢ that fitted close to her head. There was something about her—I could not place it, unless it was her perfectly round green eyes—that reminded me im- mediately of a cat. I swept off my hat with an unwonted nervousness, and murmured some sort of apology.for disturbing her. She did not answer me at all, but merely stood there staring at me in the dimly lighted hall with those large cat-like eyes. | opened my mouth to speak again, closed it foolishly, and turned, red with discomfiture, to fumble again with my lock. Suddenly behind me I heard a gentle but quite audible “pr-rrr” like the 40 . | e COnn (9) books;com —