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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

Blair Arch two years before. Amory wondered unhappily why he could never 

go into anything with the primal honesty of those two. 

 

"Burne's a fanatic," he said to Tom, "and he's dead wrong and, I'm 

inclined to think, just an unconscious pawn in the hands of anarchistic 

publishers and German-paid rag wavers--but he haunts me--just leaving 

everything worth while--" 

 

Burne left in a quietly dramatic manner a week later. He sold all his 

possessions and came down to the room to say good-by, with a battered 

old bicycle, on which he intended to ride to his home in Pennsylvania. 

 

"Peter the Hermit bidding farewell to Cardinal Richelieu," suggested 

Alec, who was lounging in the window-seat as Burne and Amory shook 

hands. 

 

But Amory was not in a mood for that, and as he saw Burne's long legs 

propel his ridiculous bicycle out of sight beyond Alexander Hall, 

he knew he was going to have a bad week. Not that he doubted the 

war--Germany stood for everything repugnant to him; for materialism and 

the direction of tremendous licentious force; it was just that Burne's 

face stayed in his memory and he was sick of the hysteria he was 

beginning to hear. 

 

"What on earth is the use of suddenly running down Goethe," he declared 

to Alec and Tom. "Why write books to prove he started the war--or that 

that stupid, overestimated Schiller is a demon in disguise?" 

 

"Have you ever read anything of theirs?" asked Tom shrewdly. 

 

"No," Amory admitted. 

 

"Neither have I," he said laughing. 

 

"People will shout," said Alec quietly, "but Goethe's on his same old 

shelf in the library--to bore any one that wants to read him!" 

 

Amory subsided, and the subject dropped. 

 

"What are you going to do, Amory?" 

 

"Infantry or aviation, I can't make up my mind--I hate mechanics, but 

then of course aviation's the thing for me--" 

 

"I feel as Amory does," said Tom. "Infantry or aviation--aviation sounds 

like the romantic side of the war, of course--like cavalry used to be, 

you know; but like Amory I don't know a horse-power from a piston-rod." 


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