22
PARTISAN REVIEW
Mrs. Anton leaned forward to give it. "I mean I don't want
somebody else takin' all the credit with the Holy Father
I"
Father Udovic sank back. It had been bad before, when she'd
ignored him, but now it was worse. She was attacking the Archbishop.
If
there were only a way to
prove
she was out of her mind, if only
she'd say something that would make all her remarks acceptable in
retrospect ... "How's the Holy Father gonna know who this dollar
came from if you didn't write anything?"
"I wrote my name and address on it. In ink."
"All right, Father," said the Archbishop. He stood up and al–
most went out of the room before he stopped and looked back at
Mrs. Anton. "Why don't you send it by regular mail?"
"He'd never see it 1 That's why 1 Some flunky'd get hold of it 1
Same as here 1 Oh, don't I know
I"
The Archbishop walked out, leaving them together-with the
envelope.
In the next few moments, although Father Udovic knew he had
an obligation to instruct Mrs. Anton, and had the text for it-"When
thou dost an alms-deed, sound not a trumpet before thee"- he des–
paired. He realized that they had needed each other to arrive at their
sorry state. It seemed to him, sitting there saying nothing, that they
saw each other as two people who'd sinned together on earth might
see each other in hell, unchastened even then, only blaming each
other for what had happened.
