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           It’sunfortunate,ifIhappentolooklikewhatpleasedsomesoppyoldGreeksculptor,butIassureyouthatifitweren’tformyfaceI’dbeaquietnunintheconventwithout"—thenshebrokeintoarunandherraisedvoicefloatedbacktohimashefollowed—"mypreciousbabies,whichImustgobackandsee."

           Shewastheonlygirlheeverknewwithwhomhecouldunderstandhowanothermanmightbepreferred.OftenAmorymetwiveswhomhehadknownasdebutantes,andlookingintentlyatthemimaginedthathefoundsomethingintheirfaceswhichsaid:

           "Oh,ifIcouldonlyhavegottenyou!"Oh,theenormousconceitoftheman!

           ButthatnightseemedanightofstarsandsingingandClara’sbrightsoulstillgleamedonthewaystheyhadtrod.

           "Golden,goldenistheair—"hechantedtothelittlepoolsofwater...."Goldenistheair,goldennotesfromgoldenmandolins,goldenfretsofgoldenviolins,fair,oh,wearilyfair....Skeinsfrombraidedbasket,mortalsmaynothold;oh,whatyoungextravagantGod,whowouldknoworaskit?...whocouldgivesuchgold..."

           AMORYISRESENTFUL

           Slowlyandinevitably,yetwithasuddensurgeatthelast,whileAmorytalkedanddreamed,warrolledswiftlyupthebeachandwashedthesandswherePrincetonplayed.Everynightthegymnasiumechoedasplatoonafterplatoonsweptoverthefloorandshuffledoutthebasket-ballmarkings.