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Spires and Gargoyles
Amorylayforamomentwithoutspeaking.
"Iwon’tbe—long,"hesaidfinally."ButIhatetogetanywherebyworkingforit.I’llshowthemarks,don’tyouknow."
"Honorablescars."Kerrycranedhisnecksuddenlyatthestreet."There’sLangueduc,ifyouwanttoseewhathelookslike—andHumbirdjustbehind."
Amoryrosedynamicallyandsoughtthewindows.
"Oh,"hesaid,scrutinizingtheseworthies,"Humbirdlookslikeaknock-out,butthisLangueduc—he’stheruggedtype,isn’the?Idistrustthatsort.Alldiamondslookbigintherough."
"Well,"saidKerry,astheexcitementsubsided,"you’realiterarygenius.It’suptoyou."
"Iwonder"—Amorypaused—"ifIcouldbe.Ihonestlythinksosometimes.Thatsoundslikethedevil,andIwouldn’tsayittoanybodyexceptyou."
"Well—goahead.LetyourhairgrowandwritepoemslikethisguyD’InvilliersintheLit."
Amoryreachedlazilyatapileofmagazinesonthetable.
"Readhislatesteffort?"
"Nevermiss’em.They’rerare."
Amoryglancedthroughtheissue.
"Hello!"hesaidinsurprise,"he’safreshman,isn’the?"
"Yeah."
"Listentothis!MyGod!
"’Aservingladyspeaks:
Blackvelvettrailsitsfoldsovertheday,
Whitetapers,prisonedintheirsilverframes,
Wavetheirthinflameslikeshadowsinthewind,
Pia,Pompia,come—comeaway—’
"Now,whatthedevildoesthatmean?"
"It’sapantryscene."