And now it had happened at
last: Georgie Minafer had got his come-upance.
He had got it three times filled and running over. The city had
rolled over his heart, burying it under, as it rolled over the Major's
and buried it under. The city had rolled over the Ambersons and
buried them under to the last vestige; and it mattered little that
George guessed easily enough that most of the five hundred Most
Prominent had paid something substantial "to defray the cost of steel
engraving, etc."--the Five Hundred had heaved the final shovelful of
soot upon that heap of obscurity wherein the Ambersons were lost
forever from sight and history. "Quicksilver in a nest of cracks!"
Georgie Minafer had got his come-upance, but the people who had so
longed for it were not there to see it, and they never knew it. Those
who were still living had forgotten all about it and all about him.
Chapter XXXIV
There was one border section of the city which George never explored
in his Sunday morning excursions. This was far out to the north where
lay the new Elysian Fields of the millionaires, though he once went as
far in that direction as the white house which Lucy had so admired
long ago--her "Beautiful House.
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