He was dressed at half past, so he sat down by the window; felt that the sinews of his heart were twisted somewhat more than he had thought.

What an ironic mockery the morning seemed!--bright and sunny, and full of the smell of the garden; hearing Mrs.Borge's voice in the sun-parlor below, he wondered where was Isabelle.
There was a knock at the door.
"The car will be around at ten minutes of nine, sir." He returned to his contemplation of the outdoors, and began repeating over and over, mechanically, a verse from Browning, which he had once quoted to Isabelle in a letter: "Each life unfulfilled, you see, It hangs still, patchy and scrappy; We have not sighed deep, laughed free, Starved, feasted, despaired--been happy." But his life would not be unfulfilled.

He took a sombre satisfaction in thinking that perhaps all along she had been nothing except what he had read into her; that this was her high point, that no one else would ever make her think.

Yet that was what she had objected to in him; and Amory was suddenly tired of thinking, thinking! "Damn her!" he said bitterly, "she's spoiled my year!" ***** THE SUPERMAN GROWS CARELESS On a dusty day in September Amory arrived in Princeton and joined the sweltering crowd of conditioned men who thronged the streets.

It seemed a stupid way to commence his upper-class years, to spend four hours a morning in the stuffy room of a tutoring school, imbibing the infinite boredom of conic sections.