Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERY England. It had evidently cost a good deal of money, and quite as evidently had been constructed to suit an original taste. Its owner was a man with a hobby, one would have conjectured; he did not care for a view, but he did care for comfort. The wide brick terrace with its wicker furniture, the trellises at either end with their climbing roses, the earthenware jars with their lacy ferns, all gave a suggestion of the luxury that might be expected indoors. A manservant, in a suit of white linen, came out, and, after glancing at the tall figure that now stood again at the end of the terrace that commanded a view of the water, removed the empty glass from the stand and carried it into the house. Pres- ently the sunset glow made the valley gold- en and flamed in the western windows. Then the man’s vigil was rewarded; he saw a woman in a light yellow dress coming up the path through the valley from the sea. He went forward leisurely, almost indif- ferently, one would have thought. And he allowed her to speak first. ‘““Am I late, Louis? Were you getting impatient?” He shook his head. waiting for you?”, “Oh, yes. It was there.” She gave him a glimpse of her blue eyes, and laid her hand on the arm that he offered and so they went up to the terrace and in at the wide front door. The expectation that this house—so sin- gularly situated in the valley of an island at least a quarter mile from the mainland— would prove comfortable, not to say luxuri- ous—was proved correct as soon as one stepped inside. The floor of the large apart- ment off the terrace was of polished hard- wood and covered with beautiful rugs. Op- posite the front door was a great fireplace, the chimney of which was so built that it became a pillar of the room, which extended the depth of the house, and had windows on two sides. The walls were hung with panels of Chinese and Japanese embroidery, gor- geous things blazing with color. The furni- ture, chairs, divans, tables, were all of fine workmanship, and of a great variety of pattern, though here again the general sug- gestion was of the Orient. And the sunset “ Wasn’t the boat OF THE OPAL. 239 light coming into the room bathed the in- terior with a glamour that seduced the eye. The woman removed her hat, and stood in front of an oval copper framed mirror to regard herself. In the meantime the man, his hands on the back of a tall chair, sur- veyed her approvingly. ‘You like my gown, Louis?” she asked over her shoulder. He nodded. “ It looks cool. things.” “Such things as the gown’s wearer? Please give me a cigarette.” He took a lacquered box from a table, opened it, and presented it to her. He struck a match and held ‘it for her. After she had lighted the cigarette she seated herself in a high, straight-backed chair. The servant came in with a tray on which were two cocktail glasses. The woman took one, then the man. “This is worth all the perils of my.sea voyage,” said the guest, smiling. ‘‘ Does it make up for your voyages, Louis?” “My voyages had their own recom- penses,” the host answered. A flick of his hand, an almost imperceptible gesture, and the servant disappeared. The man drained his glass slowly, like one accustomed to humor his palate. “Sometimes I almost regret those voy- ages,” he said, setting his glass on a table. “There was a flavor to them like nothing else in this ridiculous world.” “That’s not very polite,” she protested, ‘“‘ considering that I’m here.” He went over to her slowly, and his hand, a sinewy hand with strong fingers, rested on the back of her chair. ‘ You are the rose of the world that makes all the rest worth fighting through,” he said. ‘You are my recompense, Georgette.” The lovely shoulders, through their thin, yellow sheathing, shrugged; and Georgette Clement handed him her glass. “That sounds better. Only—to how many other women has Louis Trench said that?” His answer—if he had been disposed to make one—was forestalled by the click of curtain rings being drawn aside and the entrance of the servant. “Dinner is ready, sir,” he said, his eyes on his master. I like cool Conn CloOolkK nn