786
PARTISAN REVIEW
the war; lots of respectable people.... I know that in Italy there
were
brave persone,
girls, daughters, wives, there were so many sol–
diers, even people who didn't have to took a ride because the spirit
of it was so general; and people thought, 'Who am I not to?' and
took off after this or that fashion so they wouldn't miss out on the
ride of the world. And my sister ... she's after re-establishing herself
with honor in a normal way of life."
Perhaps, thought Scampi, Weyl ought not to have told him this
about Fanny. By the usual standards, no. But with him there was
something preceding those usual standards, a labor of feeling came
first and led everything else by an immense distance; there was still
more and more to be brought into place, bigger and heavier pieces
of masonry.
"She wanted to re-establish me, too. She had the older sister
picked for me. The younger girl had no inclination to be anything
but what she was brought up to be, but the older one had imagina–
tion, and Fanny was saying to me that if I had any sense I'd go after
her. I told her what I told myoId aunt a while back- you heard-not
to plan my life for me.
As
a joke. Well, it isn't much of a joke,
either. But
it
sounded like an extra piece of stupidity to Fanny, and
I
gueg;
it was stupid and I deserved to be jumped on for it."
"What did she say?"
"She said, 'You like the Sheridan Road whores better? They've
got you in hand, it seems to me. What do you call managing for
yourself, waking up
in
a different kitchenette every morning?' "
"Was that true?"
"Well, she didn't know anything. She was tracking me
in
her
mind, and I suppose it could have been true. I might as well have
been doing that as anything else. I didn't answer, though. There
wasn't anything I felt like answering since all her feelings were out
of the wrappings and flashing around me. No use denying that the
Sheridan Road whores had me in control because that would have
been superfluous now when those feelings were turned loose on the
main street of this prairie town that was empty on this Sunday hour,
with a long row of clock-headed parking meters, the dime stores,
red and gold, the field-stone church. We were in the essential, you
see, having gone down the line from the dressed or masked character
