Avon Fantasy Reader No. 12 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

He had slept that afternoon and had no difficulty staying awake until the hour she returned. From inside the house he watched again until he heard the soft thud of bounding paws and distinctly saw by a moon late enough to leave ils frail ghost by dawnlight, the striped body of the tigress transformed as it glided over the porch, into the body of Rourke widow. Ee saw the startling green glow of her eycs as she went to her room. That morning he stood beside her again and saw the change in her appearance. She had been a dainty, perfumed creature. Now her face was haggard, her amber-colored flesh was scratched, her nails were broken and grimed, and about her was the fetid odor of the great carnivore’s breath, faint yet distinct, As he watched, her body moved, stretched and curled again like a cat, and her fingers flexed and spread like claws. Dincen touched her wrist. Without a movement her eyes opened their glowing green fire; yet in the light the iris narrowed to a thin slit of emerald flame. Her head rubbed against his arm, and like a kitten her tongue licked at his hand. He jerked back and spoke sharply. Blood oozed to the surface of the skin her tongue had rasped. Then he regretted speaking, for she wakened fully, and he saw she was bewildered, and shuddered con- vulsively, moaning a little. “I dreamed, Tuan! I dreamed I was caught in a trap!” _ “Then take warning,” he said gently. “Leave vengeance to the gods.” Then, ashamed of a ao that betrayed his own weak slip- ping into a belief in this dreadful metempsychosis, he left her abruptly, thinking it was high time he cleared out and went back to the haunts of his own logical-minded race. “Tomorrow I leave,” he announced to her late that afternoon. She did not demur, and as usual disappeared as the moon rose. As before, he waited until dawn, but this time his vigil was fruitless. She did not return, Remembering that she sometimes stayed away for a few days, he was not alarmed until Inbam came running in the noonday heat when no native willingly stirs abroad. He was greatly upset and excited and almost incoherent as he blurted out the news that Omar Sung Loo had trapped a splendid tigress and was shipping her back to his kampong. “Tuan, you must buy this tigress and set it free,” wailed Inbam. “T tried to buy it. I offered all I possessed and all my kinsfolk possessed, but he will not sell. Tuan, he trapped the tigress with bags of white dust he scattered, a magic powder that made her forget her cunning and roll in it like a cub at play. But she must be freed, Tuan. Buy her. By your hope of Paradise, you must free this tigress.” Dineen leaned forward in his chair, staring at the agonized Inbam. “Why should I set this tigress free?” he demanded. “By the spirit of Tuan Rourke who was your friend, you must. Tuan, mn comicbooks.com