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America's iomous author now brings fo radio the stories every woman wants to hear. On these pages Radio Mirror publishes in its original novel form, "Mystery House," recently heard on the air. For further exciting listening tune In "By Kathleen Harris" daily over the NBC-Red and CSS nefworics, sponsored by Wiieafies.
Illustrations by Seymour Thompson
■ "Didn't you know," Flora said to Page, measuredly, "that Randall Harwood and I are going to be married?"
DECEMBER, 1940
Dr. Harwood told Page her real patient was a handsome young man named Lynn, the old woman's protege, who suffered from a mysterious mental trouble. Strangely attracted to Lynn, Page agreed one day to accompany him to his camp on a rocky island off-shore, and was shocked when he suddenly drew the Prendergast diamond from his pocket. "I'll give it to you some day," he said. "But not now, because you'd give it to — her — and she'd have me sent away." Page, pityingly, realized that Lynn was afraid of being sent to an asylum. She did, however, gain his permission to tell Dr. Harwood that he had the diamond.
A FEW days later, on a fresh cold morning. Page walked with Rand to the ' farm. Flora was headachy, and remained in bed. Lynn had disappeared after breakfast. Page, comfortably dressed in low sturdy shoes, snugly buttoned rough coat and brief skirt, felt ready for anything.
The farm at Mystery House lay almost four miles due east from the house, at the highway. j
Three families of Japanese managed the farm, all living together somehow in the one stark, weather-blackened old house.
It was a part of the eerie isolation of Mystery House that these orientals settled down for the night at dark every evening, and that their living quarters were as black after sundown as the barns that housed the stock. Also at dark the dogs were loosed — ^not particularly dangerous looking, dogs, and not many. Yet there was something distinctly disagreeable in the idea of their proximity at night; Page had heard them barking furiously.
But, however dark and unfriendly it was at night, the farm was a pleasant rambling place in the daytime, and when Page arrived there with her cheeks glowing and her hair disordered, she enthusiastically accompanied Rand on his round of inspection, smiling at the women and children, eyeing respectfully the dairy and the hay barns, the fields and sheds and fences.
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