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Table of contents
AMORY, SON OF BEATRICE
SPIRES AND GARGOYLES
THE EGOTIST CONSIDERS
NARCISSUS OFF DUTY
THE DEBUTANTE
EXPERIMENTS IN CONVALESCENCE
YOUNG IRONY
THE SUPERCILIOUS SACRIFICE
THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

CHAPTER 2. Experiments in Convalescence

 

 

 

The Knickerbocker Bar, beamed upon by Maxfield Parrish's jovial, 

colorful "Old King Cole," was well crowded. Amory stopped in the 

entrance and looked at his wrist-watch; he wanted particularly to know 

the time, for something in his mind that catalogued and classified liked 

to chip things off cleanly. Later it would satisfy him in a vague way to 

be able to think "that thing ended at exactly twenty minutes after eight 

on Thursday, June 10, 1919." This was allowing for the walk from 

her house--a walk concerning which he had afterward not the faintest 

recollection. 

 

He was in rather grotesque condition: two days of worry and nervousness, 

of sleepless nights, of untouched meals, culminating in the emotional 

crisis and Rosalind's abrupt decision--the strain of it had drugged the 

foreground of his mind into a merciful coma. As he fumbled clumsily with 

the olives at the free-lunch table, a man approached and spoke to him, 

and the olives dropped from his nervous hands. 

 

"Well, Amory..." 

 

It was some one he had known at Princeton; he had no idea of the name. 

 

"Hello, old boy--" he heard himself saying. 

 

"Name's Jim Wilson--you've forgotten." 

 

"Sure, you bet, Jim. I remember." 

 

"Going to reunion?" 

 

"You know!" Simultaneously he realized that he was not going to reunion. 

 

"Get overseas?" 

 

Amory nodded, his eyes staring oddly. Stepping back to let some one 

pass, he knocked the dish of olives to a crash on the floor. 

 

"Too bad," he muttered. "Have a drink?" 

 

Wilson, ponderously diplomatic, reached over and slapped him on the 

back. 

 

"You've had plenty, old boy." 

 

Amory eyed him dumbly until Wilson grew embarrassed under the scrutiny. 

 

"Plenty, hell!" said Amory finally. "I haven't had a drink to-day." 

 

Wilson looked incredulous. 

 

"Have a drink or not?" cried Amory rudely. 

 

Together they sought the bar. 

 

"Rye high." 

 

"I'll just take a Bronx." 

 

Wilson had another; Amory had several more. They decided to sit down. 

At ten o'clock Wilson was displaced by Carling, class of '15. Amory, his 


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