Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 126: what you’re looking at

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

264 run away while [m dancing with— with that woman. If Hayes doesn’t show up—and you’re not here—” Jack shivered—not in fear of Bill’s fists, but at the thought of dancing with her. They returned to the waiting girl in gray. Music began to throb. Like the brave soldier that he was, Bill placed a determined but awkward arm about the slender waist of Margy. Fascinated, Jack watched them until they were lost in the swirl of dancers. For the first couple of turns around the great circle, conversation was non- existent between the two. Bill plowed steadily and decorously along. A red wisp of scented hair torment- ed his nose. He made a move to brush it aside. His eye was poor, or his hand was not as steady as it might have been, for he nearly destroyed his part- ner’s smart coiffure. She looked up at him. were deep and dreamy. “You dance heavenly,” she said. Bill’s chin set itself at a sterner angle. “Vou're so different from other men,” she went on. “ You don’t talk all the time, and you don’t try to tell me how beautiful I am. [ adore strong, silent men.” She let her voice die away slowly. Her head drooped until her hair rested snugly against Bill’s neck. Bill began to feel less stern. After all, the girl had some sense. More than most, anyway. And she wasn’t half bad looking. His arm tightened ever so slightly around her waist. It was a smooth, firm waist. Slight as was the movement, she de- tected it. She looked up again into his face. Back of those smoldering gray eyes was something which disturbed Bill. It was something he did not like. It af- fected him strongly. He dropped his gaze to her lips, and was startled by the fullness and the redness of them. Her eyes ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Suddenly the music ceased. Bill had done his duty. He was all for rushing her into a corner and de- livering her into Jack’s hands. But she demurred. “Please. cony for a breath of air.” The balcony was crowded. Couples were hugging the darker corners. Oc- casionally, when a match was struck for a cigarette, it showed the gleaming brass buttons of some gray sleeve around fair shoulders. Bill steered Margy to a place on the balcony rail which was fully illumi- nated by light from the doorway. He was taking no chances. Together, in silence, they watched the white moon put silver into the black waters of the Hudson far below them. Once she turned quickly around, and caught him gazing at her. “Tell me,’”’ she asked in a voice that was low and vibrant, “ why ‘do you hate us women so?” Bill was at a loss for words. perfume of her was choking him. She leaned forward. Her face was close to his. “Do you—hate me?” Bill tried to back away. He couldn’t. He was hypnotized, rooted to the spot. Those red lips— Somehow, her small hand was on his shoulder. It was stealing around to the back of his neck. The lips were so close. They should not be so close, he kept telling himself. He felt himself going. Something within him cried out. When he came to, she was laughing, and he had a funny taste in his mouth. It was his first experience with lipstick. The VL. BiLL was the last one in after the hop. As he entered the room which he shared with Jack, he turned on the light. Barren, gray walls, two steel desks, two fan-back wooden chairs, two small white cots. Gomichbook Let’s go out on the bal-— (E@)