“You make it sound beautiful.”

“It will be beautiful.”

“Will?”

“Will. Because you can’t deny yourself the world, Rhoda. You can’t cut out a part of yourself. And sooner or later you’ll realize this.”

“I can’t.”

“You will.”

“I can’t.” She lit another cigarette, nervous again now, afraid of what she might do, more afraid of what she might desire to do. She smoked nervously and missed the ashtray when she went to duck her ashes. She tried to scoop up the ashes and brushed them onto the floor in her clumsiness. Megan told her to forget it. She looked down at the ashes on the rug and thought that she was going to cry. She didn’t know why she ought to cry but she felt tears welling up behind her eyes and was afraid they would spill out momentarily.

“I feel so funny,” she said.

“Of course you do. Poor girl, you have to look at yourself all differently now. It’s a new world, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what it is.”

“A brand new world. Right now it’s frightening because it’s so unfamiliar. When you learn to know it you’ll find out that you belong in it, that it’s the only world for you. The world of shadows, the twilight world. There are a great many cliches for it. But it’s my world. And yours, Rhoda.”

“I feel like crying.”

“Go ahead.”

“I-”

“Let it out. Don’t try to hold it in, baby, just relax and let it out. You can cry in front of me, Rhoda.”

She cried. She couldn’t help it.

“I have to go home, Megan.”

She was standing now, her tears washed away, fresh lipstick on her lips. It was late and she was tired and frightened and she had to go home.

“Stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Sleep here.”

“Oh, Megan, no I can’t. I honestly can’t.”