Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

500 fied butler was serving coffee; the men were lighting their cigars. A matured woman and four men—all in evening dress—were sitting in a group; min- gled with their voices came the soft, limpid tones of a piano. It stood in a secluded alcove—a grand piano of carved mahogany. On a bench before its keyboard, a young man in a Tuxedo was sitting playing. Georgie. Dee stood beside him, leaning against the instrument. She was gazing at the page of music with a puzzled frown; then at his fingers as they roamed the keys, and then, in admiration, at his face. On a high-back davenport before an open fireplace, Loto sat with Azeela. There was an artificial black flower in her spun gold hair—the mourning custom of her time world. Her milk-white throat was bare; her clinging blue dress made her seem taller and older, and the blue was mirrored in her eyes. She was silent, staring into the flames licking upward from the huge logs. “ That’s very pretty music,” she said finally. ‘“‘ So big an instrument—this piano as you call it—you never would think one could play it.” “Chopin,” he answered. “A piece by Chopin. Georgie plays Chopin mighty well. Azeela, there is so much I have to show you. Just that one little thing—Chopin, for instance. I want you to hear the music of some of the great composers—and our pianists.” ‘‘ And the opera,” she prompted. “ And you promised you would take me to a theater.” ““T will, of course. There are so many things for you to see. Why, it will be just like a new world—a new life that you’re just beginning, Azeela.”’ “Yes,” she murmured. “A _ new life, in a new world. It seems like that already.” “ And wait till you ride in the subways and tubes! You'll be surprised how—” But she shuddered. ‘I do not believe I want to do that. It would bring back memory of the cavern—other things.” Georgie and Dee left the piano and ad- vanced to the fireplace. Azeela moved over on the davenport. Loto stood up; but Georgie shook his head. THE ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEK_Y. “Thanks. Dee and I thought we’d try the window szat.” Across the room the Big Business Man, the Doctor, and the Banker were demanding additional details from Rogers. Lylda sat among them Listening to her husband’s nar- rative. “That Toroh and his Noths were in the cavern at Orleen,” the Banker said gruffly. ‘“*Can’t you xeep the thing straight? I want to hear it consecutively—not jump around in, this way.” Ensconced in the window seat, Georgie and Dee gazed out at the yellow lights of the city around them—a city so different from anything Dee could have even im- agined. There was a soft, shaded rose light be- side the girl. Georgie was not looking out of the window, but at her. He had seen Dee in many costumes, but never, he thought, was she so beautiful as right now. A girl of his own time world. He had not realized that this was the way he had al- ways wanted her to look. Her dress, drop- ping to a few inches above her silken ankles, was soft and clinging. There was a Roman sash about her waist. Her black hair, like Azeela’s, was iressed on her head. Like Azeela, too, she wore the dark mourning flower. The soft light beside her threw a flush on her milk-white throat and cheeks. Feeling his gaze, she turned. “You like the way Lylda has clothed me? It feels very strange.” “Yes,” he said. ‘‘ You look—beautiful, Dee!” She turned back to the window in con- fusion. From below, the hum of the city floated up to them; the raucous sirens of automobiles. ‘“‘'Ves,” he repeated. ‘I do like it very much, Dee. Your hair done up that way, especially.” Abruptly his arms were around her; he was kissing her ““Georgie! Georgie! you!” “ No,” he protested. ‘‘ No, they won't. Anyway, suppose they do? I don’t care— do you?” END Some one will see GOMIIGIOO S (C(O)