Then he realized that for a
long time he had been conscious of a queerness about this corner
without being aware of what made the difference. National Avenue met
Amberson Boulevard here at an obtuse angle, and the removal of the
pillars made the Boulevard seem a cross-street of no overpowering
importance--certainly it did not seem to be a boulevard!
At the next corner Neptune's Fountain remained, and one could still
determine with accuracy what its designer's intentions had been. It
stood in sore need of just one last kindness; and if the thing had
possessed any friends they would have done that doleful shovelling
after dark.
George did not let his eyes linger upon the relic; nor did he look
steadfastly at the Amberson Mansion. Massive as the old house was, it
managed to look gaunt: its windows stared with the skull emptiness of
all windows in empty houses that are to be lived in no more. Of
course the rowdy boys of the neighbourhood had been at work: many of
these haggard windows were broken; the front door stood ajar, forced
open; and idiot salacity, in white chalk, was smeared everywhere upon
the pillars and stonework of the verandas.
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