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Amory, Son of Beatrice
"Youaretall—butyou’restillveryhandsome—you’veskippedtheawkwardage,oristhatsixteen;perhapsit’sfourteenorfifteen;Icanneverremember;butyou’veskippedit."
"Don’tembarrassme,"murmuredAmory.
"But,mydearboy,whatoddclothes!Theylookasiftheywereaset—don’tthey?Isyourunderwearpurple,too?"
Amorygruntedimpolitely.
"YoumustgotoBrooks’andgetsomereallynicesuits.Oh,we’llhaveatalkto-nightorperhapsto-morrownight.Iwanttotellyouaboutyourheart—you’veprobablybeenneglectingyourheart—andyoudon’tknow."
Amorythoughthowsuperficialwastherecentoverlayofhisowngeneration.Asidefromaminuteshyness,hefeltthattheoldcynicalkinshipwithhismotherhadnotbeenonebitbroken.Yetforthefirstfewdayshewanderedaboutthegardensandalongtheshoreinastateofsuperloneliness,findingalethargiccontentinsmoking"Bull"atthegaragewithoneofthechauffeurs.
Thesixtyacresoftheestateweredottedwitholdandnewsummerhousesandmanyfountainsandwhitebenchesthatcamesuddenlyintosightfromfoliage-hunghiding-places;therewasagreatandconstantlyincreasingfamilyofwhitecatsthatprowledthemanyflower-bedsandweresilhouettedsuddenlyatnightagainstthedarkeningtrees.ItwasononeoftheshadowypathsthatBeatriceatlastcapturedAmory,afterMr.Blainehad,asusual,retiredfortheeveningtohisprivatelibrary.Afterreprovinghimforavoidingher,shetookhimforalongtete-a-teteinthemoonlight.