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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

the class. 

 

Many afternoons they lounged in the windows of 12 Univee and watched 

the class pass to and from Commons, noting satellites already attaching 

themselves to the more prominent, watching the lonely grind with his 

hurried step and downcast eye, envying the happy security of the big 

school groups. 

 

"We're the damned middle class, that's what!" he complained to Kerry one 

day as he lay stretched out on the sofa, consuming a family of Fatimas 

with contemplative precision. 

 

"Well, why not? We came to Princeton so we could feel that way toward 

the small colleges--have it on 'em, more self-confidence, dress better, 

cut a swathe--" 

 

"Oh, it isn't that I mind the glittering caste system," admitted Amory. 

"I like having a bunch of hot cats on top, but gosh, Kerry, I've got to 

be one of them." 

 

"But just now, Amory, you're only a sweaty bourgeois." 

 

Amory lay for a moment without speaking. 

 

"I won't be--long," he said finally. "But I hate to get anywhere by 

working for it. I'll show the marks, don't you know." 

 

"Honorable scars." Kerry craned his neck suddenly at the street. 

"There's Langueduc, if you want to see what he looks like--and Humbird 

just behind." 

 

Amory rose dynamically and sought the windows. 

 

"Oh," he said, scrutinizing these worthies, "Humbird looks like a 

knock-out, but this Langueduc--he's the rugged type, isn't he? I 

distrust that sort. All diamonds look big in the rough." 

 

"Well," said Kerry, as the excitement subsided, "you're a literary 

genius. It's up to you." 

 

"I wonder"--Amory paused--"if I could be. I honestly think so sometimes. 

That sounds like the devil, and I wouldn't say it to anybody except 

you." 

 

"Well--go ahead. Let your hair grow and write poems like this guy 

D'Invilliers in the Lit." 

 

Amory reached lazily at a pile of magazines on the table. 

 

"Read his latest effort?" 

 

"Never miss 'em. They're rare." 

 

Amory glanced through the issue. 

 

"Hello!" he said in surprise, "he's a freshman, isn't he?" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

"Listen to this! My God! 


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