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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

the referee gotten rid of--every one claiming the referee would have 

been on his side.... 

 

Progress was a labyrinth... people plunging blindly in and then rushing 

wildly back, shouting that they had found it... the invisible king--the 

elan vital--the principle of evolution... writing a book, starting a 

war, founding a school.... 

 

Amory, even had he not been a selfish man, would have started all 

inquiries with himself. He was his own best example--sitting in the 

rain, a human creature of sex and pride, foiled by chance and his own 

temperament of the balm of love and children, preserved to help in 

building up the living consciousness of the race. 

 

In self-reproach and loneliness and disillusion he came to the entrance 

of the labyrinth. 

 

***** 

 

Another dawn flung itself across the river, a belated taxi hurried along 

the street, its lamps still shining like burning eyes in a face white 

from a night's carouse. A melancholy siren sounded far down the river. 

 

***** 

 

MONSIGNOR 

 

Amory kept thinking how Monsignor would have enjoyed his own funeral. 

It was magnificently Catholic and liturgical. Bishop O'Neill sang solemn 

high mass and the cardinal gave the final absolutions. Thornton Hancock, 

Mrs. Lawrence, the British and Italian ambassadors, the papal delegate, 

and a host of friends and priests were there--yet the inexorable shears 

had cut through all these threads that Monsignor had gathered into his 

hands. To Amory it was a haunting grief to see him lying in his coffin, 

with closed hands upon his purple vestments. His face had not changed, 

and, as he never knew he was dying, it showed no pain or fear. It was 

Amory's dear old friend, his and the others'--for the church was full 

of people with daft, staring faces, the most exalted seeming the most 

stricken. 

 

The cardinal, like an archangel in cope and mitre, sprinkled the holy 

water; the organ broke into sound; the choir began to sing the Requiem 

Eternam. 

 

All these people grieved because they had to some extent depended upon 


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