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PARTISAN REVIEW
her resisting trance with questions and congratulations, with state–
ments of fact and jokes. "Later," she said to them dumbly. "Later
on, perhaps. I am busy now." But their voices would not go away.
They touched her, too, washing her face with cloths so cold they
stung, stroking her wrists with firm, antiseptic fingers. The surgeon,
squeezing her arm with avuncular pride, said, "Good girl," as if she
were a bright dog that had retrieved a bone. Her silent mind abused
him: "You are a thief," it said, "you are a heartless vagabond and
you should be put to death." But he was leaving, adjusting his coat
with an air of vainglory, and the interne, abject with admiration,
followed him from the operating room smiling like a silly boy.
Shortly after they took her back to her room, the weather
changed, not for the better. Momentarily the sun emerged from its
concealing murk, but in a few minutes the snow came with a wind
that promised a blizzard. There was great pain, but since it could not
serve her, she rejected it and she lay as if in a hammock in a pause
of bitterness. She closed her eyes, shutting herself up within her
treasureless head.
