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Table of contents
AMORY, SON OF BEATRICE
SPIRES AND GARGOYLES
THE EGOTIST CONSIDERS
NARCISSUS OFF DUTY
THE DEBUTANTE
EXPERIMENTS IN CONVALESCENCE
YOUNG IRONY
THE SUPERCILIOUS SACRIFICE
THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

New York and Philadelphia, though one night they marshalled fourteen 

waitresses out of Childs' and took them to ride down Fifth Avenue on top 

of an auto bus. They all cut more classes than were allowed, which meant 

an additional course the following year, but spring was too rare to 

let anything interfere with their colorful ramblings. In May Amory was 

elected to the Sophomore Prom Committee, and when after a long 

evening's discussion with Alec they made out a tentative list of class 

probabilities for the senior council, they placed themselves among the 

surest. The senior council was composed presumably of the eighteen most 

representative seniors, and in view of Alec's football managership and 

Amory's chance of nosing out Burne Holiday as Princetonian chairman, 

they seemed fairly justified in this presumption. Oddly enough, they 

both placed D'Invilliers as among the possibilities, a guess that a year 

before the class would have gaped at. 

 

All through the spring Amory had kept up an intermittent correspondence 

with Isabelle Borge, punctuated by violent squabbles and chiefly 

enlivened by his attempts to find new words for love. He discovered 

Isabelle to be discreetly and aggravatingly unsentimental in letters, 

but he hoped against hope that she would prove not too exotic a bloom 

to fit the large spaces of spring as she had fitted the den in the 

Minnehaha Club. During May he wrote thirty-page documents almost 

nightly, and sent them to her in bulky envelopes exteriorly labelled 

"Part I" and "Part II." 

 

"Oh, Alec, I believe I'm tired of college," he said sadly, as they 

walked the dusk together. 

 

"I think I am, too, in a way." 

 

"All I'd like would be a little home in the country, some warm country, 

and a wife, and just enough to do to keep from rotting." 

 

"Me, too." 

 

"I'd like to quit." 

 

"What does your girl say?" 

 

"Oh!" Amory gasped in horror. "She wouldn't _think_ of marrying... that 

is, not now. I mean the future, you know." 

 

"My girl would. I'm engaged." 

 

"Are you really?" 


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