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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

If mother heard you talking like that she'd send you off to 

boarding-school, where you belong. 

 

CECELIA: You won't tell her, though, because I know things I could 

tell--and you're too selfish! 

 

ROSALIND: (A little annoyed) Run along, little girl! Who are you engaged 

to, the iceman? the man that keeps the candy-store? 

 

CECELIA: Cheap wit--good-by, darling, I'll see you later. 

 

ROSALIND: Oh, be _sure_ and do that--you're such a help. 

 

(Exit CECELIA. ROSALIND finished her hair and rises, humming. She goes 

up to the mirror and starts to dance in front of it on the soft carpet. 

She watches not her feet, but her eyes--never casually but always 

intently, even when she smiles. The door suddenly opens and then slams 

behind AMORY, very cool and handsome as usual. He melts into instant 

confusion.) 

 

HE: Oh, I'm sorry. I thought-- 

 

SHE: (Smiling radiantly) Oh, you're Amory Blaine, aren't you? 

 

HE: (Regarding her closely) And you're Rosalind? 

 

SHE: I'm going to call you Amory--oh, come in--it's all right--mother'll 

be right in--(under her breath) unfortunately. 

 

HE: (Gazing around) This is sort of a new wrinkle for me. 

 

SHE: This is No Man's Land. 

 

HE: This is where you--you--(pause) 

 

SHE: Yes--all those things. (She crosses to the bureau.) See, here's my 

rouge--eye pencils. 

 

HE: I didn't know you were that way. 

 

SHE: What did you expect? 

 

HE: I thought you'd be sort of--sort of--sexless, you know, swim and 

play golf. 

 

SHE: Oh, I do--but not in business hours. 

 

HE: Business? 

 

SHE: Six to two--strictly. 

 

HE: I'd like to have some stock in the corporation. 

 

SHE: Oh, it's not a corporation--it's just "Rosalind, Unlimited." 

Fifty-one shares, name, good-will, and everything goes at ,000 a 

year. 

 

HE: (Disapprovingly) Sort of a chilly proposition. 

 

SHE: Well, Amory, you don't mind--do you? When I meet a man that doesn't 

bore me to death after two weeks, perhaps it'll be different. 

 

HE: Odd, you have the same point of view on men that I have on women. 

 

SHE: I'm not really feminine, you know--in my mind. 


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