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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

They were walking through the March twilight where it was as warm as 

June, and the joy of youth filled his soul so that he felt he must 

speak. 

 

"I think," he said and his voice trembled, "that if I lost faith in you 

I'd lose faith in God." 

 

She looked at him with such a startled face that he asked her the 

matter. 

 

"Nothing," she said slowly, "only this: five men have said that to me 

before, and it frightens me." 

 

"Oh, Clara, is that your fate!" 

 

She did not answer. 

 

"I suppose love to you is--" he began. 

 

She turned like a flash. 

 

"I have never been in love." 

 

They walked along, and he realized slowly how much she had told him... 

never in love.... She seemed suddenly a daughter of light alone. His 

entity dropped out of her plane and he longed only to touch her dress 

with almost the realization that Joseph must have had of Mary's eternal 

significance. But quite mechanically he heard himself saying: 

 

"And I love you--any latent greatness that I've got is... oh, I can't 

talk, but Clara, if I come back in two years in a position to marry 

you--" 

 

She shook her head. 

 

"No," she said; "I'd never marry again. I've got my two children and I 

want myself for them. I like you--I like all clever men, you more than 

any--but you know me well enough to know that I'd never marry a clever 

man--" She broke off suddenly. 

 

"Amory." 

 

"What?" 

 

"You're not in love with me. You never wanted to marry me, did you?" 

 

"It was the twilight," he said wonderingly. "I didn't feel as though I 

were speaking aloud. But I love you--or adore you--or worship you--" 

 

"There you go--running through your catalogue of emotions in five 

seconds." 

 

He smiled unwillingly. 

 

"Don't make me out such a light-weight, Clara; you _are_ depressing 

sometimes." 

 

"You're not a light-weight, of all things," she said intently, taking 

his arm and opening wide her eyes--he could see their kindliness in the 

fading dusk. "A light-weight is an eternal nay." 

 

"There's so much spring in the air--there's so much lazy sweetness in 

your heart." 

 

She dropped his arm. 


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