Avon Fantasy Reader No. 9 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

“Mason, it’s up to you. I can’t honestly move to have her committed on the basis of material evidence. Confinement means nothing to them; you can’t build a wall to keep out dreams. “But you love her. You can save her. You can make her well, make her take an interest in reality. Oh, I know it sounds mawkish and stupid, just as the other sounds wild and fantastic. ¢ “Yet it’s true. It’s happening right now, to her. She’s asleep up in her room-at this very moment. She’s hearing the voices—I know that much. Let her hear your voice.” Mason walked out of the room and started up the stairs. “But what do you mean, you can’t marry me?” Mason. stared at the huddled figure in the swirl of bedclothes. He tried to avoid the direct stare of Avis Long’s curiously childlike eyes; just as he avoided gazing up at the black, ominous aperture of the round window. “TI can’t, that’s all,’ Avis answered. Even her voice seemed to hold a childlike quality. The high, piercing tones might well have emanated from the throat of a little girl; a tired little girl, half- eee and a bit petulant about being abruptly awakened. “But our plans—your letters—” “I'm sorry, dear. I can’t talk about it. You know I haven’t been well. Dr. Clegg is downstairs, he must have told you.’ “But you're getting better,” Mason pleaded. “You'll be up and around again in a few days.” Avis shook her head. A smile—the secret smile of a naughty child— clung to the corners of her mouth. “You can’t understand, Marvin. You never could understand. That’s because you belong here.” A gesture indicated the room. “I belong some- where else.” Her finger stabbed, unconsciously, towards the window. Marvin looked at the window now. He couldn’t help it. The round black hole that led to. nothingness. Or—something. The sky outside was dark, moonless. A cold wind curled about the bed. “Let me close the window for you, dear,” he said, striving to keep his voice even and gentle. “No.” “But you're ill—you'll catch cold.” “That isn’t why you want to close it.” Even in accusation, the voice was curiously piping. Avis sat bolt upright and confronted him. “You're jealous, Marvin. Jealous of me. Jealous of them. You ‘would never let me dream. You would never let me go. And | want to go. They're coming for me. “I know why Dr. Clegg sent you up here. He wants you to persuade me to go away. He'd like to shut me up, just as he wants to shut the window. He wants to keep me here because he’s afraid. You're all afraid of what lies—out there. 83 COMNICDOOME anes