Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

30 that to spy on her was something worse. than bad manners; more serious than any rebuke she could offet—it was to destroy his own faith in himself, Curiosity chal- lenged his patiently planned philosophy, pleading self-defense as its extenuation; but his ideals held firm. He turned away, Dean quietly opened the cabm door, and stared out at the familiar. desolation of- home. Light was still dim, and the THE ARGOSY. eyes went directly to the woman, aad each stared frankly at the other. She stood in the doorway of the little kitchen, a coffee-pot m her hand. The color of her dress struck him at once, a ' golden brown of some soft, woolly stuff, cut all in one piece, and belted loosely about the waist. The same, warm golden hue was on ber neck and face, though her hair, piled in a plain knot behind, was jet gray sky hesitated between rain and snow, black, and her cheeks and lips a warm red. which was the normal variety of weather in Fortune. Fang, busy with his own af- fairs among the dunes, smelJed his master, and came bounding. Dean greeted his dog, but left him outside the door, fearful of disturbing his visitor. men he renewed the fire on the hearth, and started a breakfast. Then -he opened the door again, and stepped out, in his place admitting Fang. The dog. could wake her more tactfully, and he was ans- ious she should wake quickly. His philosophy had undergone all the strain it could stand. There was an over- whelming majority of reasons why his questions should be answered, and as quick- ly as possible. ¢ Not the least of his questions was how the woman had come to ‘Fortune. No steamer routes were near; overland, the thing was out of the question. He searched the beach for sign of -a launch or skiff, and there was nome. An airplane he dismissed . as too improbable. “ How” and “why ”’—these were the big questions. He granted her an impa- tient half-hour for dressing, and on top of that another quarter hour. His impatience could stand no more. He knocked on his own door—a hitle thing, but it struck bim as more fantastic than the whole program; more unreal. He entered to 4 warm smell of newly made coffee and potatoes and ham irying. Not since he had been a very small boy had he noticed such odors, and something deep down under a crust of stoicism—something he had thought long dead—stirred faimtly. In all bis years he had not realized loneli- ness as this homely, warm smell brought it to him. This all in a few seconds’ time, for his She was a slender woman and, he judged, not above five feet and a half in height. Her eyes were as black as her hair, not very large, but glinting with a dancing light. They met his, unashatned. She gave him the impression of being very well groomed, seli-péssessed, sympa- thetic. Her hands attracted him by their slimness and the polieh of the nails. Fi- nally be noted that she wore slippers of soit suede leather, and brown stockings— and the stockings were of silk! li his visstor had been an elephant inv pink tights, playing a ukulele, she could have been no more utterly absurd and out ef place in this plain board cabin, buitt among the rums of 2 town dedd the last quarter century, on # wilderness coast of a land forgotten. So he stared. | She smiled, and he discovered that her mouth was whimsical and generowsly good- humored. ‘“ Good-morning, Mr. Frazier Dean. I am Marta Kree—K-R-double-E ——Miss Kree.” | Dean imciitied his head gravely, aiid tried to select a first one from all the questions that bothered his mmd. She guessed that. “Tf you'll sit down at the table and let me have one cup of coffee I'll tefl you everything,” she pfomised, still smuling. “ Coffee is a vice with me. I’m no use in the morming until I’ve had a cup. I find most men have the same weakness—” ‘* }—how—certainly;’ Dean answered. There was a place arranged on either side of the table—a table set for breakfast with guch circumstance as his china -closet af- - forded, the bowl of flowers brightenmg its center. Marta Kree served the meal with a sare deftness that left Dean paratyzed. True comichookesonn