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"
Oh
,
you
and
Princeton
!
You
'd
think
that
was
the
world
,
the
way
you
talk
!
Perhaps
you
can
write
better
than
anybody
else
on
your
old
Princetonian
;
maybe
the
freshmen
do
think
you
're
important
--
"
"
You
do
n't
understand
--
"
"
Yes
,
I
do
,
"
she
interrupted
.
"
I
do
,
because
you
're
always
talking
about
yourself
and
I
used
to
like
it
;
now
I
do
n't
.
"
"
Have
I
to-night
?
"
"
That
's
just
the
point
,
"
insisted
Isabelle
.
"
You
got
all
upset
to-night
.
You
just
sat
and
watched
my
eyes
.
Besides
,
I
have
to
think
all
the
time
I
'm
talking
to
you
--
you
're
so
critical
.
"
"
I
make
you
think
,
do
I
?
"
Amory
repeated
with
a
touch
of
vanity
.
"
You
're
a
nervous
strain
"
--
this
emphatically
--
"
and
when
you
analyze
every
little
emotion
and
instinct
I
just
do
n't
have
'em
.
"
"
I
know
.
"
Amory
admitted
her
point
and
shook
his
head
helplessly
.
"
Let
's
go
.
"
She
stood
up
.
He
rose
abstractedly
and
they
walked
to
the
foot
of
the
stairs
.
