Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

THE CIRCLE OF FATE. over Paris, and many a dressmaker and mil- liner in the apprentice stage lost precious time gazing at the posters. Two weeks went by and then an amazing rumor ran through the circus establishment. The brothers had been seen by La Pero- sini, sitting in a café with a girl. Their companion was pretty, quietly dressed, and had been laughing and talking with her hosts. “For the first time they looked almost human,” said the rider, who had not alto- gether recovered from her chagrin. ‘‘ Heaven knows where they picked her up, or what she sees in them.” Then one night she sat in the front row gazing up at the gymnasts with a rapt and dreamy expression. And thereafter with unfailing regularity she was numbered among the spectators. After the show she waited till the brothers were dressed and then departed with them. | You can imagine the gossip, the strange surmises. Which of them was she in love with? Or was it possible that one of them was in love with her. Or both? La Perosini explained it to her own satis- faction. ‘They have adopted her as a daughter, no doubt, or perhaps they are going to break her into the act. Anything else. La, la! I flatter myself, when it comes to looks I could win in a canter. Or, wait— perhaps the girl has hypnotized them. There is something more in this than meets the eye. If we delved deep enough we should find some strange history.’>— She was wrong. The meeting of the gym- nasts with the girl had been commonplace. They lodged in a house in the Rue de Douai, not far from the circus. Returning home one night, in the hall they met the girl, who had just come to live under the same roof. She had asked them the time, and from. that simple introduction had arisen an intimacy. She had offered in the most natural way to-do some mending for them, and when they offered to pay for it, had refused. This had nonplused them. “But, mademoiselle, you must permit us. To take advantage of your kindness—no! We cannot do that.” oll “Why not? You are two lonely men. Il am a lonely girl. So there you are. If I choose to mend your clothes, what about it? It is the simplest service in the world.” “Then ”—Adolphe hesitated and glanced at Adrian—“ then you must allow us to in- vite you to lunch to-morrow,” he added in his precise manner, as though reading from a copy-book. Adrian had started, and the girl seeing his momentary confusion quickly de- murred. . “Thank you, M. Adolphe, but perhaps it is not convenient for M. Adrian.” — “Not at all,” Adrian urged, tecovering his composure. ‘‘ We shall be delighted. I say it, and I am sure my brother agrees. And then if you care you can come one evening to the show.’’ The girl wavered, then yielded. Very well, it is very kind of you. When I came here I did not expect to meet such— such good comrades.” “We are very fortunate, that is all I can say. Some good spirit must have led you here.” The girl laughed softly. “That must be it. Some good spirit led me here—there is no doubt about that,” she said, looking at them fixedly. “ To-morrow then, messieurs. Good night.” . ‘Pleasant dreams!” cried Adrian, look- ing after her as she went up-stairs. She turned swiftly and glanced back. ‘Pleasant dreams!” she answered, and some curious quality in her voice gave the good night an almost imperceptible note of menace. She looked down at them for a moment then turned the landing. ‘Curious voice—dramatic, Adolphe. “It plucks—yes,”’ murmured Adrian al- most to himself. Adolphe returned no answer, and the two men going into their room were soon un- dressed and in bed. In the middle of the night Adrian groaned and threw out his arms, muttering to him- self and shuddering. It was a habit now of frequent occur- ence. As a rule Adolphe put his arm about his brother as though to protect him when eh?” said (E(0) “comicbooks