Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1924-Jan 1925)

f ^MOTION PICTURF Bl I MAGAZINE * She smiled, as at a grateful piece of flattery. "One has to be, these clays. Now, say good night like a sensible boy, Gene, and I'll promise you to talk about it some other time." He leaned forward. "One kiss for good night?" he I begged. She shook her head emphatically. "Then let me give you a ring in the next half hour. I shan't sleep unless I hear your voice again." "Idiot !" she exclaimed, chuckling affectionately, in spite of herself. "It's way after midnight. I absolutely forbid you to telephone me at such an hour. I'll be in bed before you've turned the corner, and asleep before you use your latchkey." She placed her hands on his shoulders, pushed him on to the landing and definitely closed the door. Contrary to her assurance that she would be in bed in a few seconds, Margot, with a glance at her inviting pillow, and a sighing, comprehensive stare at the supper dishes and innumerable ash trays spilling over upon tables and chairs, took off her dress, put on a gingham house gown, and went to work. It was half an hour before she sighed again, this time with a sense of luxurious comfort, as she put an extra pillow behind her shoulders in bed and drew up the covers. She felt wide awake, and had decided to read something stupid enough j to make her sleepy. She always kept a few novels on hand for such a purpose. Margot read and smoked until a pleasant drowsiness began to steal over her. She allowed the book to slip out of her hand onto the coverlet, then pressed the button that extinguished the electric light. But, perversely, she wanted a last cigaret. She lit one, lazily intent upon taking a few puffs, and then, more asleep than awake, she stretched her arm over the side of the bed and dropped the still flaming match on to the floor. A second later, she was alert with a consciousness of what she had done. A lighted match upon a thin and worn old rug had dangerous possibilities. She raised herself on her elbow and leaned quickly over the side of the bed, intent upon locating the match and making sure that it had gone out. The big first-floor room was in almost 50 Gt she exclaimed, chuckling affectionately, in spite of "It's way after midnight. I absolutely forbid you to telephone me at such an hour. I'll be in bed before you've turned the corner, and asleep before you use your latchkey" "Idiot!" herself. complete darkness. A single ray of light streamed faintly from the tall back window. But on either side of this the darkness was opaque. As Margot stared at the floor, she first noted the match flickering in the band of twilight —quite close, it seemed. Then noiselessly a small, thin hand, followed by a forearm, reached out from under the bed. Her heart strangled in her throat and her breath was choked off. Stricken with terror, Margot watched the hand flit to the match and blot it out with a soft tap of the fingers. This done, the arm withdrew smoothly and disappeared under the bed. The girl slipped back upon her pillows and lay rigid, her eyes wide open, her lips parted and stiff. Her first recoil from the incredible thing she had seen quickened definitely to an overwhelming fear for her safety. Someone — a man, of course — was under her bed, had been lurking there all evening. He had extinguished the match to prevent a fire which would have led to his discovery, and doubtless, too, with the object of keeping the room quite dark. He would wait until he was sure she was asleep, then he would come creeping out and he would — — What would he do ? Was it mere burglary she must combat, or something more sinister? Burglary! Oh, no! M argot's brain was functioning clearly now. She felt it ".was unlike a New York burglar to hide for hours in a house where all the rooms were occupied. He would have broken in later. Besides, what had she for anyone to steal ? It was not — could not — be theft. Some maniac escaped, some paranoic, who had picked her out as the one on whom to avenge an imaginary grievance ? In her years as a medical student, she had come to know the possibilities concerning paranoics. It was murder, then ■ — murder? How long would he wait? She dared not scream, and who would hear her in any case? The old house had been built in a period when walls and doors were made thick, soundproof, almost. How long could she endure the suspense, she wondered, without giving way to hysterics? And she must keep cool ! With a violent wrench, Margot fought her nerves into subjection, raised one cold hand, and switched on the reading light at the head of the bed. {To be continued)