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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

corner divan. His face was cast in the same yellow wax as in the cafe, 

neither the dull, pasty color of a dead man--rather a sort of virile 

pallor--nor unhealthy, you'd have called it; but like a strong man who'd 

worked in a mine or done night shifts in a damp climate. Amory looked 

him over carefully and later he could have drawn him after a fashion, 

down to the merest details. His mouth was the kind that is called frank, 

and he had steady gray eyes that moved slowly from one to the other 

of their group, with just the shade of a questioning expression. Amory 

noticed his hands; they weren't fine at all, but they had versatility 

and a tenuous strength... they were nervous hands that sat lightly 

along the cushions and moved constantly with little jerky openings and 

closings. Then, suddenly, Amory perceived the feet, and with a rush of 

blood to the head he realized he was afraid. The feet were all wrong ... 

with a sort of wrongness that he felt rather than knew.... It was like 

weakness in a good woman, or blood on satin; one of those terrible 

incongruities that shake little things in the back of the brain. He wore 

no shoes, but, instead, a sort of half moccasin, pointed, though, like 

the shoes they wore in the fourteenth century, and with the little ends 

curling up. They were a darkish brown and his toes seemed to fill them 

to the end.... They were unutterably terrible.... 

 

He must have said something, or looked something, for Axia's voice came 

out of the void with a strange goodness. 

 

"Well, look at Amory! Poor old Amory's sick--old head going 'round?" 

 

"Look at that man!" cried Amory, pointing toward the corner divan. 

 

"You mean that purple zebra!" shrieked Axia facetiously. "Ooo-ee! 

Amory's got a purple zebra watching him!" 

 

Sloane laughed vacantly. 

 

"Ole zebra gotcha, Amory?" 

 

There was a silence.... The man regarded Amory quizzically.... Then the 

human voices fell faintly on his ear: 

 

"Thought you weren't drinking," remarked Axia sardonically, but her 

voice was good to hear; the whole divan that held the man was alive; 


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