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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

at him for making his dreams realities. They haven't clear logical ideas 

on one single subject except a sturdy, stolid opposition to all change. 

They don't think uneducated people should be highly paid, but they won't 

see that if they don't pay the uneducated people their children are 

going to be uneducated too, and we're going round and round in a circle. 

That--is the great middle class!" 

 

The big man with a broad grin on his face leaned over and smiled at the 

little man. 

 

"You're catching it pretty heavy, Garvin; how do you feel?" 

 

The little man made an attempt to smile and act as if the whole matter 

were so ridiculous as to be beneath notice. But Amory was not through. 

 

"The theory that people are fit to govern themselves rests on this man. 

If he can be educated to think clearly, concisely, and logically, 

freed of his habit of taking refuge in platitudes and prejudices and 

sentimentalisms, then I'm a militant Socialist. If he can't, then I 

don't think it matters much what happens to man or his systems, now or 

hereafter." 

 

"I am both interested and amused," said the big man. "You are very 

young." 

 

"Which may only mean that I have neither been corrupted nor made timid 

by contemporary experience. I possess the most valuable experience, the 

experience of the race, for in spite of going to college I've managed to 

pick up a good education." 

 

"You talk glibly." 

 

"It's not all rubbish," cried Amory passionately. "This is the first 

time in my life I've argued Socialism. It's the only panacea I know. I'm 

restless. My whole generation is restless. I'm sick of a system where 

the richest man gets the most beautiful girl if he wants her, where 

the artist without an income has to sell his talents to a button 

manufacturer. Even if I had no talents I'd not be content to work ten 

years, condemned either to celibacy or a furtive indulgence, to give 

some man's son an automobile." 

 

"But, if you're not sure--" 

 

"That doesn't matter," exclaimed Amory. "My position couldn't be worse. 

A social revolution might land me on top. Of course I'm selfish. It 


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