210
PARTISAN REVIEW
do." As she said it, she felt
.all
at once ten years older than Sheila.
And she was struck with the futility of having said anything at
all.
To tell Sheila everything would be like making a confession of faith
at a theosophy meeting. But the part of it that mattered could never
be told to Sheila. That part was a different world. Perhaps Gretchen
was wrong in the first place ever to have thought of Sheila, but they
were
friends of a sort.
"Ah!" Sheila breathed softly. "You sense something- you've
had an intimation-a sense of- " She was all breathing spirit. Clearly,
what Gretchen might tell was of a coarse, defiling, base actuality.
"I can't tell you about it-" Gretchen began to say irritably,
but Sheila nodded with all her understanding. At that moment
Gretchen saw how she could tell Sheila and yet not tell her. Sheila
was the only one who would not ask practical questions.
"Well, I didn't actually-um- I mean, not really, do you know
what I mean? And I'm sure it's really nothing, but I'm still worried.
I'm afraid, I don't know what I'd do. I mean, I don't think it really
is--- that I really
am-but,
what
if
it
were
true?"
"Oh, you mustn't have any fears-you could come and live
with me. We'd take care of the baby together!" Sheila offered hap–
pily, her face lighting up. For Sheila the idea of a baby was truly
an
idea,
and part of new growth or any kind of growth, and also
rebirth and the immortal spirit.
"But my life-my paintings. And when my mother finds out-"
Poor Gretchen mumbled. The whole thing was suddenly so tangible.
It
was her own self that was involved, an idea
inside
her body. She
felt as if her young life were over, and that a part of her had died.
"I couldn't possibly have an abortion," she went on, desperately
practical. "But I couldn't
have
the baby- " and when she said the
word again, it seemed so terribly real.
"Oh, no, an abortion would be terribly wrong," was Sheila's
opinion. "But it would be so interesting to have the baby. For you,
I mean." She stopped to think about it. Then she said suddenly, "Re–
member the ankh! And life. That's the only thing that matters."
It was a poor consolation. Gretchen nodded as in the old days,
but as if she were reassuring a child while thinking of something very
serious. She continued to sit sullenly in her chair. This was the second
time the ankh had said nothing to her.
