The Egotist Considers

           "Ouch!Letmego!"

           Hedroppedhisarmstohissides.

           "What’sthematter?"

           "Yourshirtstud—ithurtme—look!"Shewaslookingdownatherneck,wherealittlebluespotaboutthesizeofapeamarreditspallor.

           "Oh,Isabelle,"hereproachedhimself,"I’magoopher.Really,I’msorry—Ishouldn’thaveheldyousoclose."

           Shelookedupimpatiently.

           "Oh,Amory,ofcourseyoucouldn’thelpit,anditdidn’thurtmuch;butwhatarewegoingtodoaboutit?"

           "Doaboutit?"heasked."Oh—thatspot;it’lldisappearinasecond."

           "Itisn’t,"shesaid,afteramomentofconcentratedgazing,"it’sstillthere—anditlookslikeOldNick—oh,Amory,what’llwedo!It’sjusttheheightofyourshoulder."

           "Massageit,"hesuggested,repressingthefaintestinclinationtolaugh.

           Sherubbeditdelicatelywiththetipsofherfingers,andthenateargatheredinthecornerofhereye,andsliddownhercheek.

           "Oh,Amory,"shesaiddespairingly,liftingupamostpatheticface,"I’lljustmakemywholeneckflameifIrubit.What’llIdo?"

           Aquotationsailedintohisheadandhecouldn’tresistrepeatingitaloud.

           "AlltheperfumesofArabiawillnotwhitenthislittlehand."

           Shelookedupandthesparkleofthetearinhereyewaslikeice.

           "You’renotverysympathetic."

           Amorymistookhermeaning.

           "Isabelle,darling,Ithinkit’ll—"

           "Don’ttouchme!"shecried."Haven’tIenoughonmymindandyoustandthereandlaugh!"

           Thenheslippedagain.