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The Egotist Considers
INTHEALLEY
Downthelongstreetcamethemoon,andAmoryturnedhisbackonitandwalked.Ten,fifteenstepsawaysoundedthefootsteps.Theywerelikeaslowdripping,withjusttheslightestinsistenceintheirfall.Amory’sshadowlay,perhaps,tenfeetaheadofhim,andsoftshoeswaspresumablythatfarbehind.WiththeinstinctofachildAmoryedgedinunderthebluedarknessofthewhitebuildings,cleavingthemoonlightforhaggardseconds,onceburstingintoaslowrunwithclumsystumblings.Afterthathestoppedsuddenly;hemustkeephold,hethought.Hislipsweredryandhelickedthem.
Ifhemetanyonegood—werethereanygoodpeopleleftintheworldordidtheyallliveinwhiteapartment-housesnow?Waseveryonefollowedinthemoonlight?Butifhemetsomeonegoodwho’dknowwhathemeantandhearthisdamnedscuffle...thenthescufflinggrewsuddenlynearer,andablackcloudsettledoverthemoon.Whenagainthepalesheenskimmedthecornices,itwasalmostbesidehim,andAmorythoughtheheardaquietbreathing.Suddenlyherealizedthatthefootstepswerenotbehind,hadneverbeenbehind,theywereaheadandhewasnoteludingbutfollowing...following.Hebegantorun,blindly,hisheartknockingheavily,hishandsclinched.Faraheadablackdotshoweditself,resolvedslowlyintoahumanshape.ButAmorywasbeyondthatnow;heturnedoffthestreetanddartedintoanalley,narrowanddarkandsmellingofoldrottenness.
