Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

916 As he helped her into the taxicab, Bol- ton actually seemed to assume the role that he had chosen. In imagination, he fancied himself an honorable in fact. To be riding in a taxi, with a pretty girl at his side, was a new experience. On twenty-five dollars a week in New York taxis are not come by frequently. But just this once, he meant to enjoy the sensation to the full. After the ball, in the cold, gray dawn of to-morrow’s reality, his dream might be’ gone forever. In the meantime, Dick as- sumed an air of careless ennui. In the semidarkness of the cab, Anna smiled to herself at his acting, She thought Dick was more English than this Treving- ton man himself. Something else amused her, and she sup- pressed a little giggle. But when Dick de- sired to know what she thought was funny, Anna declined to tell him. The cab drew up at the porte-cochére of the Hudsonbilt. Anna had never en- tered that imposing hostelry by these gor- geous doors. Now Dick helped her from the cab with an air of chivalry, as though she was a princess. They crossed the soft floor of the lounge and paused before the lift. Men and wom- en in evening clothes stared at the two in costume. Those who loitered in the lobby, were watching with curious interest the steady stream of arriving guests bound for the bal masque. Naturally, they could not know that these two were impostors. Certainly they looked their parts, and several who fol- ‘lowed their movements, wondered who the two might be. On the topmost floor, in an anteroom, Dick handed his admission cards to a gold- laced flunky. He did not know that Anna recognized most of the hotel attendants. If they had known that Dick’s companion was a manicure downstairs, the obsequious staff would have collapsed and sunk right through the floor. In the room where she left her cloak— which was also from Bloom’s shelves— Anna took the precaution not to remove her mask. The chattering girls who pow- dered and rouged, and peered at them- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. selves in the mirrors, gave her scant at- tention. But as she returned to the foyer, Anna was instantly aware of men’s admiring glances. Her heart gave a leap as she realized the meaning of their approval. Her manner as well as her costume made them believe that she belonged there. Well, there wouldn’t be any doubt about Dick. She saw him by the entrance of the brilliant ballroom. Nonchalant in his attitude, he might have been an honor guest instead of an interloper. ‘“ Dick,” said Anna, and drew him aside, ‘““we mustn’t forget the time. It won’t do to stay here till every one unmasks.” ‘““Suppose we dance.” He ignored her words. His accent was even more pro- nounced than Archie Trevington’s. Anna was somewhat annoyed. was no need to pretend with her. thought Dick rather childish. Then, as he took her in his arms, and they glided off, she remembered that she loved him. What was more, she recalled that Dick was a perfectly gorgeous dancer. Even to Anna, the scene was like a glimpse of fairyland. The ballroom was a bower of blooms and colored lights. , The floor was thronged with a motley of exotic characters. There were monks and _ cardinals, Romans, Egyptians, troubadours; Colonial Dames and Carmens, Indian maids and placid nuns, and hula-hula girls. Soft lights and mingled perfumes; gleaming jewels and flashing eyes. The syncopating music was entrancingly sensuous. It seemed to Anna that they trod a hazy, rose-hued cloud. In spite of her misgivings, she was almost glad they’d come. Now a man who was dressed like Captain Kidd deliberately cut-in. Dick had been utterly helpless. | He’d had to relinquish Anna. But as he stood staring after his partner and her captor, a girl in harem silks and veils whispered in his ear: ‘ Aren’t you going to dance with me?” Her tone was softly mocking. “I’m crazy to know who you are—and T just can’t guess.” Dick wondered who the oir! was. Should There She Gomichbooks (E(0)