The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

BEFORE THE DARK. hastily, “ you won’t say it unless you mean it.” Her eyes met his in a level gaze. “T like you,” she said. “Very much? ” 66 Yes.”’ “Do you like many people very much ? ” 66 No.” “ How many?” “A few.” ‘“ And I’m one of those few?”’ 66 Yes.”’ His face lighted up. “T can hardly realize it. It is splen- did. It far outweighs what I said.” “Oh, no!” “You are modest. You see, your liking me much means far more than my liking you much. So many like you. I am only one of a crowd. I wonder you don’t get used to it.” ‘They don’t all like me to that ex- tent. And some are worth more than others.” ““T want to be one of those. I've been afraid to think I was vain. But I am feeling reckless now. So I am going to ask you another question. May I?” She nodded. “ Well,” he continued, “of those few you probably like one or two con- siderably more than the others. And sooner or later you will come to like one a great deal more than all the others—more than anybody else.” 66 I may.” “You will. those special few? come the one? mean.”’ He spoke shamefacedly, for he was in earnest. Deep down inside he knew how he felt, and knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say many things, and say them better than this, but he was handicapped by a terror of appear- ing dramatic, and of not carrying con- viction. “Why should you?” she asked. “Because I want to. [I want to more than I want anything else. I like you Could I become one of Could I even be- You know what I 95 better than any one else I know—and better than any one else likes you.” He waited apprehensively after add- ing the last sentence. He wondered how she would take it. | She was silent for a few minutes. Then she looked up at him. “How do you know you do?” “Because no one could like you more than I do. It isn’t possible.” She was silent again. He watched her in perplexity. Was this boring her, or was she—liking it? “Could I become that — one?” he repeated diffidently. “T don’t know,’ she answered. “My liking people doesn’t depend on how much they like me. A repulsive person might like me very much, but that wouldn’t mean that I liked him even at all. One doesn’t return liking in proportion as one receives it, on a sort of scale. It’s spontaneous.” “You are right. So be frank. Do you like any one much better than me?” 6“ No.”’ “ Do you like any one at all better? ” She looked ahead of her thought- fully. “No,” she said slowly, after a short pause. The coast was free then! Bennett felt an almost irresistible impulse to take her in his arms and tell her things he had no right to tell her just yet. And yet something told him that he could go further — that this was the right moment to go further. He went further. “Do you,’ he asked—“ do you like any one as much? It sounds horribly conceited, I know,” he added; “ but—”’ “YT don’t think I can answer that question.” She spoke in a friendly tone. She did not seem to be offended.’ Boldness urged Bennett on once more. “Why not?” " “T can’t. I don't know. I couldn’t say ‘ Yes,’ you see, at least until—” She stopped. “Well, what?” he prompted gently. = CoOMmicbook CO