The Fascinating Stranger, and Other StoriesTarkington, Booth
General
The Fascinating Stranger, and Other Stories
Tarkington, Booth
Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
“My gracious!” said Laurence, and when he came to the harness-shop he
halted and looked in through the open door; but the expression of the
bearded man behind a counter was so discouraging that he thought it best
to make no inquiries.
The bearded man was as irritable as he looked. “Listen!” he called.
“Don’t block up that door, d’you hear me? Go on, get away from there and
let some air in. Gosh!”
Laurence obeyed morosely. “Well, doggone it!” he said.
He had no idea that the pair preceding him might have been received as
cavalierly, for their air of being people engaged in matters of
importance had all the effect upon him they desired, and deceived him
perfectly. Moreover, the mystery of what they had done in the
barber-shop and in the harness-shop was actually dismaying; they were
his colleagues in age and his inferiors in sex; and yet all upon a
sudden, this morning, they appeared to deal upon the adult plane and to
have business with strange grown people. Laurence was unwilling to give
them the slightest ground for a conceited supposition that he took any
interest in them, or their doings, but he made up his mind that if they
went into another shop, he would place himself in a position to observe
what they did, even at the risk of their seeing him.
Four or five blocks away, the business part of the city began to be
serious; buildings of ten or twelve stories, several of much more than
that, were piled against the sky; but here, where walked the shoppers
and their disturbed shadower, the street had fallen upon slovenly days.
Farther out, in the quarter whence they had come, it led a life of
domestic prosperity, but gradually, as it descended southward, its
character altered dismally until just before it began to be respectable
again, as a business street, it was not only shabby but had a covert air
of underhand enterprise. And the shop windows had not been arranged with
the idea of offering a view of the interiors.
Of course Elsie and Daisy did not concern themselves with the changed
character of the street; one shop was as good as another for the
purposes involved in the kind of shopping that engaged them this
morning; and they were having too glorious a time to give much
consideration to anything. Elsie had fallen under the spell of a daring
leadership; she was as excited as Daisy, as intent as she upon
preserving the illusion they maintained between them; and both of them
were delightedly aware that they must be goading their frowning follower
with a splendid series of mysteries.
“I declare!” Daisy said, affecting peevishness. “I forgot to look at
orstrich feathers an’ unb’eached muslin at both those two last places we
went. Let’s try in here.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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