Interlude

           AletterdatedJanuary,1918,writtenbyMonsignorDarcytoAmory,whoisasecondlieutenantinthe171stInfantry,PortofEmbarkation,CampMills,LongIsland.

           MYDEARBOY:

           Allyouneedtellmeofyourselfisthatyoustillare;fortherestImerelysearchbackinarestivememory,athermometerthatrecordsonlyfevers,andmatchyouwithwhatIwasatyourage.ButmenwillchatterandyouandIwillstillshoutourfutilitiestoeachotheracrossthestageuntilthelastsillycurtainfallsplump!uponourbobbingheads.Butyouarestartingthesplutteringmagic-lanternshowoflifewithmuchthesamearrayofslidesasIhad,soIneedtowriteyouifonlytoshriekthecolossalstupidityofpeople....

           Thisistheendofonething:forbetterorworseyouwillneveragainbequitetheAmoryBlainethatIknew,neveragainwillwemeetaswehavemet,becauseyourgenerationisgrowinghard,muchharderthanmineevergrew,nourishedastheywereonthestuffofthenineties.

           Amory,latelyIrereadAeschylusandthereinthedivineironyofthe"Agamemnon"Ifindtheonlyanswertothisbitterage—alltheworldtumbledaboutourears,andtheclosestparallelagesbackinthathopelessresignation.TherearetimeswhenIthinkofthemenoutthereasRomanlegionaries,milesfromtheircorruptcity,stemmingbackthehordes...hordesalittlemoremenacing,afterall,thanthecorruptcity...anotherblindblowattherace,furiesthatwepassedwithovationsyearsago,overwhosecorpseswebleatedtriumphantlyallthroughtheVictorianera....