Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

Oe og a phe 720 even if he had known English he would not have spoken it—stood ‘between the other guests and that loud jocularity which was etiquette for these diners-out. For an- other thing, they were a little ashamed of the marchese, even if he could not avoid his silence, for silence, forced or preferred, in that city was a thing abhorred. - In a word, before-the first course of the dinner had been eaten, an uneasy conversa- tion was being jerked from woman to woman, and long rents of silence gaped in the tapestry of their talk. Janet from her end of the table was des- perately throwing topics at her guests, pray- ing that some one down the long table would have the wit to catch one, enrich it and throw it again, and trying, in her bad Italian to make the marchese talk to her. He was a remarkably quiet man, the mar- chese, Finally, in despair, she left them to their own dullnesses and devoted herself to this stiff lion who refused to roar even in his own tongue—and then, behold, life re- turned to that expiring effort. ‘“‘ Marchese,” said Janet, trying for the fifth time to make him unbend, ‘“‘I do so admire men like you—-men who do things, worth while things; men who create or who invent. I am a very humdrum sort of per- son, I fear—but I possess the great gift of admiration for such men. How marvelous you are!” The marchese bowed. Janet plunged on: “TI have always wanted to create, myself. I always flattered myself that I might have written, but when one has this—”’ she waved her hand at the big dining room, sighing. “ Even one’s home is a burden at times.” The marchese said: “ Often.” Janet, nothing daunted, continued: “Yes, indeed it is—and poor me, I am tied to it when I am sure that I might have written. Why, once I made up a ghost story that so frightened a houseful of very sophisticated people that we nearly had a tragedy.” The marchese said: ‘‘ Really?” Janet remained quiet a second until she caught the reassured buzz from the rest of the table. “Tt all happened at our house in Venice ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. before I was married,” she went on. “T was giving a house party and the day the party arrived from Paris it was simply stifling hot and they were bored. So I told them a story to amuse them. I told them it was an old legend that I had heard about our house—and even if I did make it up out of my own head it was a very good story. Why, one of my guests tried to commit suicide after he heard it, and all the rest left for Paris the next day; all except my husband, yonder. He was the only one who had the courage to stay. Don’t you think that was remarkable?” The marchese showed the first signs of interest he had deigned to display that night. He twisted about in his seat and faced her. The buzz of conversation from the rest of the table reached a crescendo and flowed happily on. ‘Will you tell me the name of your house in Venice?” asked the marchese. “I know Venice very well for I have many relatives there. I am exceedingly interested.” “It is called the Palazzo Effizzi.” Janet was glowing now. “Ah,” said the marchese. “And will you tell me the story that so frightened your guests?” ‘“T invented a very wicked, very gorgeous Effizzi and I told my guests that to expiate his sins he haunted the old house and drove away any wicked soul who might enter it. I don’t know how a ghost should look and I was afraid that if I tried to des- cribe him he wouldn’t be terrible enough to be convincing so I told them that no one had ever seen him, but that this invisible terror invested one of our best guest rooms and that several persons had been driven to suicide from there. I think that was a good ghost story, don’t you?” ‘‘ And what happened exactly?” asked the marchese. “One of the men, for a lark you under- stand, decided to spend the night there. The rest kept watch in an adjoining room. Believe me or not, so well had I told my story that the man—and he wasn’t a boy, but a very sophisticated man of the world —became so frightened when he was left alone in the dark that he tried to jump out of the window. My husband caught him— 5 A oO i - ~ <i = nar” 5 an EOPMNICG LOOKS sCO le eS ee Pe ae