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Updated: June 27, 2025
In nineteen-thirteen his primal energies were spent, and he was trusting to the movement of the Vortex to carry him a little farther than he could have gone by his own impetus. He was attracted to the young men of the Vortex because they were not of the generation that had rejected him, and because he hoped thus to prolong indefinitely his own youth.
All his life he had looked for some great experience, some great satisfaction and consummation; and he had not found it. In nineteen-thirteen, with half his life behind him, the opportunist was still waiting for his supreme opportunity. Meanwhile his enemies said of him that he snatched. But he did not snatch. The eyes of his idealism were fixed too steadily on a visionary future.
From September nineteen-thirteen to December to March nineteen-fourteen, to June she had been at the farm nine months. June May April. This time three months ago John had come. In the bottom of the field, at the corner by the yard-gate, under the elms, she could see Gwinnie astride over the tilted bucket, feeding the calves. It was Gwinnie's turn. She heard the house door open and shut.
Madame had not visited her home recently? Not in many years; not in fact since nineteen-thirteen. She assumed the city must have changed greatly. Duchemin thought it was never the same, but forever changing itself overnight, so to speak; and yet always itself, always like no other city in the world, fascinating.... "Fascinating? But irresistible! How I long for it!"
"Early in nineteen-thirteen, a little more than five years ago, the crash came. He was arrested, charged with the embezzlement of thirty-three hundred dollars from the firm which employed him. The name of the firm was Blanchard and Sebastian. He had stolen more than the amount mentioned, but the specific charge on which action was taken was the theft of the thirty-three hundred.
Yes, and more; she was looking on with a cool, measuring eye. Oh, it was all very grotesque, to be sure. But then, mutiny on the high seas in the year nineteen-thirteen is also grotesque. No lists here between mailed knights for a lady's favour, but merely the trouncing of a chuckle-head for spitting on the deck of a coal-carrier.
It was for other people to turn and twist if any one of them was to get a complete all-round view of the amazing man. But taken all round he passed for a man of hard wit and suspicious brilliance. And he belonged to no generation. In nineteen-thirteen he was not yet forty, too old to count among the young men, and yet too young for men of his own age.
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