Pulp Fiction, 1947 · page 36 of 132
Avon Modern Short Story Monthly #36 — page 36: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1947. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
: ‘ : ‘ x; te OS - es ‘ « . 2 Ppt v4 rs oi « Nar iy ERAT EES i 56i erst eee Bo et ei : : ; ; Ase” { Piles Sal a3 a Se is ae ye Sy a if 6 ah LM pine Plot? se pS io 7 pees: ve ee SU ot Rye @ a as Tis oh SACL phe f Sis ty hb Fe. 5 Tey : ° $i 7 £5 \ Wet Poses ted ee >, Ty Mae lh eee ere ; 7 2 “ Con Pleas? ee ae? i — re rt Nae 4 . ‘aa 2 et, -.* z a en ere i _ ar Ta ae i sew)! oy : ¢ 3 Pie | 4 iy) . ~ + . " . o ¥ — » * yi a ee ‘heralded E ja the sti quavering squeals of a very young child. ae A _ Marguerite Monvoisin was sufficiently acquainted with the ghastly rites to guess what was impending. She was young, and herself a eg She had her share of the maternal instinct alive in every fe- a ready, and a sense of sate sickness overcame her. That and the i _ fear of her mother kept her stiff and frozen in an angle of the settle a Ly until La Voisin had passed through and reéntered the chapel bearing Beas ‘that piteous bundle in her arms. : __ Then, when the door had closed again, the girl, horrified and i : y fastinated, sped back to watch. She saw that unclean priest turn and ie "receive the child from La Voisin. As it changed hands its cries were ee 285 _stilled. 3 i - Guibourg faced the altar once more, that little wisp of humanity : “that was but a few days old held now aloft, naked, in his criminal oe that demoniac consecration reached the ears of the petrified girl at the keyhole. “Ashtaroth, Asmodeus, Princes of Affection, I conjure you to Sie B canwledee the sacrifice I offer to you of this child for the things I ___ask of you, which are that the King’s love for me shall be continued, c and that honoured by princes and princesses nothing shall be denied me of all that I may ask.” A sudden gust of wind smote and rattled the windows of the chapel and the ante-room, as if the legions of hell had flung them- * i. - " > i *s he » e ot Seas lre' ee mel Wee be AY ; tie A bt ee ' %. “ler ROA sie a C7 eh Ay ON an “é sad = ou & sree fe ™ ¢ 5 re pe r 9 Be iced ay as al ep “tt y : . y bby pa = * y ve fe R < ’ 4 Sat ; « ie wt) z at : bs BN: delves against the walls of the chateau. There was a rush and clatter. in the chimney of the ante-room’s vast, empty fireplace, and through the din Marguerite, as her failing limbs sank under her and she De slithered down in a heap against the chapel door, seemed to hear a ee burst of exultantly cruel satanic laughter. With chattering teeth and ate shone eyes she sat huddled, listening in terror. The child began to “was a little choking cough, a gurgle, the chink of metal against ey earthenware, and silence,