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PARTISAN RE VIE W
the end identify herself with the other, take on
his
griefs and wrongs,
and if it came to that, feel guilty as if she had caused them. And it
was no good, neither for confidant nor listener. There was no cure,
no comfort, tears changed nothing and words could never get at the
truth. No, don't tell me any more, I am not listening. I don't want
to know you. Let me alone.
Jenny had wakened out of a nightmare and even after her eyes
were open she was holding her breast in horror afraid to take her
hands away because of the blood on them. Then her mind cleared
and the vision dispersed like smoke, she was able to explain quite
logically the whole sequence of her dream and its connecting links. Of
course. The night before, David had followed her and Freytag about,
skulking along, very like a detective collecting evidence for the
wronged husband. Freytag had pretended not to notice for a while,
but after David had followed them up to the boat deck, the busi–
ness was much too obvious to ignore. Jenny had said goodnight, and
turned away. Instantly David had followed her, he had seized her
arm and held on. She had seen at once that he was blind drunk; he
would be stubborn, silent, unmanageable, it was best to walk along
with him. But she realized very soon that his intentions were other–
wise. He was leaning upon her shoulder and regarding her with a
desirous eye. And their direction was towards her cabin, not his. She
was cold with anger and disgust. She wrenched her arm free, swung
through her door and turned instantly to close it in his face. He braced
against the panel with his shoulder, and she strained with
all
her
strength on the other side of the door. He gave way suddenly when
Elsa, who had started up in fright, cried out, "What are you doing
here?" The door closed and Jenny slipped the bolt.
"Don't be nervous," she said to Elsa, "He is only drunk and a
little confused."
Oddly enough, Jenny remembered, Elsa had connected the sor–
did little episode somehow with the notion of Love. She wanted to
talk about love. She confessed that she was afraid she might fall in
love-she drooled the word, rather, thought Jenny, which is perhaps
the right way-love with that beautiful Spanish student, the tall one
who sang so well.
"But I dare not let my mother suspect," said Elsa, "Can you
imagine what she would say?"
"Oh yes," said Jenny, "I can. And you'd better be careful."
Elsa thought this over for a moment, then she ventured, a lit–
tle timidly: "I think it must be wonderful to have a man so much
