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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

alive like heat waves over asphalt, like wriggling worms.... 

 

"Come back! Come back!" Axia's arm fell on his. "Amory, dear, you aren't 

going, Amory!" He was half-way to the door. 

 

"Come on, Amory, stick 'th us!" 

 

"Sick, are you?" 

 

"Sit down a second!" 

 

"Take some water." 

 

"Take a little brandy...." 

 

The elevator was close, and the colored boy was half asleep, paled to 

a livid bronze... Axia's beseeching voice floated down the shaft. Those 

feet... those feet... 

 

As they settled to the lower floor the feet came into view in the sickly 

electric light of the paved hall. 

 

***** 

 

IN THE ALLEY 

 

Down the long street came the moon, and Amory turned his back on it and 

walked. Ten, fifteen steps away sounded the footsteps. They were like a 

slow dripping, with just the slightest insistence in their fall. 

Amory's shadow lay, perhaps, ten feet ahead of him, and soft shoes was 

presumably that far behind. With the instinct of a child Amory edged in 

under the blue darkness of the white buildings, cleaving the moonlight 

for haggard seconds, once bursting into a slow run with clumsy 

stumblings. After that he stopped suddenly; he must keep hold, he 

thought. His lips were dry and he licked them. 

 

If he met any one good--were there any good people left in the world or 

did they all live in white apartment-houses now? Was every one followed 

in the moonlight? But if he met some one good who'd know what he meant 

and hear this damned scuffle... then the scuffling grew suddenly nearer, 

and a black cloud settled over the moon. When again the pale sheen 

skimmed the cornices, it was almost beside him, and Amory thought he 

heard a quiet breathing. Suddenly he realized that the footsteps were 

not behind, had never been behind, they were ahead and he was not 

eluding but following... following. He began to run, blindly, his heart 

knocking heavily, his hands clinched. Far ahead a black dot showed 

itself, resolved slowly into a human shape. But Amory was beyond that 

now; he turned off the street and darted into an alley, narrow and 


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