Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

294 ““No-o-o! I thought not.”’ Jerry laid down his fork and looked across at her, 3 “I'd like to bag a big one, duchess!”’ he said, looking straight at her. Norine took a sip of water, buttered the infinitesimal portion of a roll and ate it; carefully placed her knife across her but- ter plate and brought her attention to Jerry who by that time was wondering if he had been heard. “Why not?” she inquired. ‘Not very easy just now, sister! Lots of limousines and fine clothes and big talk, but actual cash—”’ “There, too—if you look.” ““'What’s:this you’ve got up your sleeve? You—” A warning look from Norine as the waiter swept down upon them. The girl bowed to a heavy woman in purple-and-black, murmuring: “‘ Mrs. Mor- ley, Jerry! Ill see that you get to some of her things this winter. She must have just come in from Long Island.” ‘‘ Thanks, duchess!” Jerry gave her a long look. She answered it steadily. The waiter removed the silver cover from a dish and served the fish as if it had been special- ly procured for royalty. They waited im- patiently while he filled their glasses, re- passed rolls, and finally stopped to see if his artist soul demanded any further ad- ditions to the perfect meal. : “ All right!” said Jerry impatiently. “T’ll call you if I don’t like this! Slide! Out with it, kid!” he added as he watched the waiter beyond ear-range. you been hatching up for us?” ‘A full-blown orchid!” Norine ate a bit of fish, corroborating her statement with a nod of her head and delicate pursing of her lips. “Name of—” — “Did you meet Ranfield Masters last night?” “Met a lot. Was he a slender chap with nothing much to say?” “His number, Jerry!” ‘“* Masters — um-m-m Masters! — Ran- field—I’ve heard—” Jerry’s eyes light- ened to the color of blue water when the sun shines through it. His hand shot across the table and closed on the girl’s. “What ’ve- -~me choose one. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Sister!”’ he cried. I'd like to—” “But you won’t,” said Norine compos- edly. ‘ Mrs. Morley-is looking at us now. It doesn’t matter if people think I have something of a crush on you, but a ru- mored engagement would be—messy!” Jerry withdrew his hand. Norine chat- tered commonplaces during the remainder of the meal, but Jerry was abstracted. A calculating gray had filmed the blue of his eyes. The delights of the would-be epicure in the perfect meal of his ordering were be- ing partly submerged by those of the busi- ness man on the trail of a new deal. When the coffee was finished he raised his head and looked at her. “Youre the stuff, duchess!” he cried. “‘You’re a keener little sport than I thought you were. I’ll own to something. I had a hunch right along you might rake “You’ve got it! up some ‘ancestral conscience after a while | and leave me cold. But, you’re all right! You’ve got the goods. ~ Brains, looks, per- sonality, friends among the right people—”’ ‘““ Leave you—cold!” repeated Norine. She stopped, one white glove half on her hand, an old diamond-and-sapphire ring of her mother’s shining above it. Her eyes narrowed, giving the impression that she was looking a long way and seeing much. ‘““Leave you! No, Jerry!” she said, leaning forward and speaking in a low voice, but so vehemently that he caught every word clearly. ‘‘ I went to help Betty choose a Callot, to-day,” she said. ‘‘ Some of these days I mean that Betty shall help Understand, Jerry? The Lawtons have been respectably poor for generations, and all the time have been try- ing to become respectably rich. I’m the last of the line, Jerry, and—respectability be hanged!”’ Jerry laughed, the wide-mouthed, gleeful laugh that served so well to enhance his boyish integrity of countenance. His hand half came across the table to her, then re- turned as the waiter placed a silver tray containing the dinner check at his elbow. Jerry smothered the slip with several bills which he bestowed upon the establishment with a large wave of his brilliantly mani- cured hand. comichbook (Eo) m