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           TheypausedbyLittleandwatchedthemoonrise,tomakesilveroftheslateroofofDoddandbluetherustlingtrees.

           "Youknow,"whisperedTom,"whatwefeelnowisthesenseofallthegorgeousyouththathasriotedthroughhereintwohundredyears."

           AlastburstofsingingfloodedupfromBlairArch—brokenvoicesforsomelongparting.

           "Andwhatweleavehereismorethanthisclass;it’sthewholeheritageofyouth.We’rejustonegeneration—we’rebreakingallthelinksthatseemedtobindusheretotop-bootedandhigh-stockedgenerations.We’vewalkedarmandarmwithBurrandLight-HorseHarryLeethroughhalfthesedeep-bluenights."

           "That’swhattheyare,"Tomtangentedoff,"deepblue—abitofcolorwouldspoilthem,makethemexotic.Spires,againstaskythat’sapromiseofdawn,andbluelightontheslateroofs—ithurts...rather—"

           "Good-by,AaronBurr,"AmorycalledtowarddesertedNassauHall,"youandIknewstrangecornersoflife."

           Hisvoiceechoedinthestillness.

           "Thetorchesareout,"whisperedTom."Ah,Messalina,thelongshadowsarebuildingminaretsonthestadium—"

           Foraninstantthevoicesoffreshmanyearsurgedaroundthemandthentheylookedateachotherwithfainttearsintheireyes