Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

276 “Tf we should never mention it again, darling,” he said quietly, “ might we not be happier?” “As you prefer, dear,” she agreed. “ But you mustn’t let that dark deed haunt you in dreams. A generation ago there was scarcely a gentleman in the first society who had not killed his man. It’s highly honorable for gen- tlemen; I think dueling was far su- perior to the stuffy law courts of our day. ‘“T know you killed your man fairly, splendidly—the burst of flame, the smoke—bang! My dear, you made me a heroine! The girls literally mobbed me; I was quite sought after. I had to show your picture, you know. “And you have the terrible pistol that did it, haven’t you? And I may have it, mayn’t I, darling? I’ve prom- ised to show it—to let them touch it, you know.” “T haven’t it now,” he said. “ Good Lord, the memory is souvenir enough! Have you ever seen a dead man, Miranda?” | “Urrrr—you make me_ shudder, Reuel! No, I haven’t, and I don’t want to see one, but you shall tell me how they look. And that darling, wild little picturesque Hetty of yours, she can fire a gun! Have you her picture? “You have been so dear about her! And so fun-ny! I’m marrying a Puri- tan. Pages and pages about Hetty— confession purifies the soul! I tried to read between the lines—the little things you didn’t write. “You never owned to kissing her, Reuel—and she could never be as nice to kiss as I. You vowed a thousand times she wasn’t really pretty—but there are those dark, fascinating, pas- sionate little things. You'll never see her or kiss her again, will you?” “Good Lord!’ he cried, and sprang to his feet. “Reuel! You bear! You scare me so. What have I done? What have I said ?” “ How little you know me!” he mur- “~ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. mured gravely, dropping into his chair again. ‘‘Do you fancy a philanderer, then, Miranda? I have kept my troth. Does that disappoint you?” “It must have disappointed Hetty!” she whispered mischievously, and burst into a fit of giggling. “But you're very, very darling, Reuel!”’ she said quickly. “I believe you're quite, quite unsophisticated, for all your traveling and, everything. I’ve been chaperoned and shielded, and my novels have been selected for me, but I know quite a deal about the wick- ed world, dear. “You'd never dream what tales we hear over the teacups. [ll tell you a perfectly astounding secret, darling: all men are wicked! They can’t be men and escape it. It’s—er—original sin, that’s it! “T could tell you the name of a very great and noble and honorable gentle- man in Washington—one whom you know quite well—who’s in one of the highest positions in the government, and he, my dear, is compared with the Sultan of Turkey. You’d never guess 1 2 “ Miranda!”’ he protested, with a grimace of pain. “T fancy you think you’re fooling me,” she said archly. “I dare say you are much wiser than you’d have me think you. Women tell me that the more wildly jealous a woman is of her husband, the more passionately she adores him.” “You'd have me a Byron?” he queried icily. “ But all the ladies would have died for him!” she cried. “ But, Reuel, you're very cross with me. I think it’s rather nice not to be too ignorant—too innocent. Women are very, very good and virtuous, as a rule; it’s the men who are wicked. But the women for- give them, for it’s always been done.” “I'd like you to leave Washington,” he said abruptly. “ You’d learn many things by travel, Miranda.” “Of course—and we shall go to (EO) VOOLKS MUNG (C@