Chapter VI: Part 6

Laura let her jacket drop from her shoulders slowly, provocatively, and Beebo approached her. They stood motionless, so close that just the tips of Laura’s breasts touched Beebo, and they stood that way, without moving, until Laura shut her eyes, letting her head rock back on her shoulders, and groaned.

“Do it, Beebo,” she said. “Do it. I can’t stand it, do it to me.”

“Beg me. Beg me, baby.”

Laura’s eyes opened. She didn’t know how hard her breath was coming, how strange and wonderful she looked with all her inhibitions burning up in her own flame of desire. “Beebo, Beebo, take me,” she groaned.

Still Beebo didn’t move. Her breath was hot and pure on Laura’s face when she spoke. “When I start, Laura,” she said slowly, “I’m never going to stop.” She put her hands against the wall over Laura’s head and leaned on them, her eyes boring into Laura’s, her body closing gently in on Laura’s, pressing. “Never,” she whispered.

“Do it, Beebo. God! Do it!”

“I’ll never stop. Never.” Her lips grazed Laura’s brow.

Laura shook all over. She couldn’t talk, except to repeat Beebo’s name over and over and over, as if she were in a trance. Beebo’s hands came slowly over her hair, her face, her breasts, her waist, her hips. And then one strong arm went around her and Laura groaned. They sank to the floor, wracked with passion, kissing each other ravenously, tearing at each other’s clothes.

* * * * *

They never heard Nix’s indignant barking from the bathroom, or the phone when it rang a half hour later. They never felt the chill of the rainy night nor the hard discomfort of the floor where they lay. Or the phone when it rang again. And later, yet again. It was not until late morning and brilliant sunshine invaded the room that they were aware of anything but themselves.

Once again it was Laura who woke up first. She was too bewildered to think straight at first, and the sight of Beebo, turning over slowly and opening her eyes, did nothing to straighten her out. Physically she felt wonderful. For a few moments she luxuriated in her body, letting her mind go blank.

She rubbed her hands gently over herself and discovered a bruise on her thigh. The little ache gave her a sudden hard thrill and she remembered how Beebo made the bruise with her mouth. She had to fight hard against the need to roll over on Beebo and start loving her all over again. She touched the small bruise once more and felt the same shameless pleasure. She stretched, more for Beebo’s benefit than her own.

Beebo caught her and pulled her down and rubbed her black hair against Laura’s breasts. Laura laughed and struggled with her.

“Beebo, I’ve got to get up. I have to get to work.”

“To hell with work. This is love.”

“Don’t keep me, Beebo. This job means the world to me. I don’t want to be late.” She spoke the truth, yet she had no idea of how she was going to get up and get out.

“What time do you think it is, baby?”

“I don’t know.”

Beebo peered over her head at the dresser clock. “Eleven-thirty,” she said.

Laura gasped and tried to get off the floor, the surprise giving her impetus, but Beebo held her. “You’re going nowhere, Bo-peep,” she said. Her tone, her self-assurance, brought out the fight in Laura.

“I’ve got to get there. You don’t know how far behind we are. I could lose my job. And if my father ever—” She stopped, still squirming to get up. She got as far as her knees but Beebo grasped her wrists and held her there.

“I said, you’re not going anywhere, baby,” she said, and she wasn’t kidding.

“Beebo, be reasonable. Please. You can’t know how important it is to me.” It was suddenly important in a new way, too; it meant distance between her and Beebo. She was vaguely afraid that Beebo was strong enough to overwhelm her, to dominate her life. She needed something else to keep her perspective, her independence.

“You don’t know how important _you_ are to _me_,” Beebo returned. “What the hell, you’re half a day late already. Call ’em and tell ’em you’re sick.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t lie worth a damn, Beebo.”

“You can say ‘I’m sick’ can’t you? It’s a cinch, I do it all the time. Come on, let me hear you say it.”

“I can’t. I turn bright red when I lie.”

Beebo released her and turned over on her stomach, laughing. “Jesus, Laur, you could turn bright green. Who’s going to see you over the phone? Do your damn radiologists have X-ray eyes?”

Laura was on her feet and heading for the phone in Beebo’s kitchen. She dialed the office, while Beebo got up and followed her to listen.

“Sarah?” Laura said.

“Laura! Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m all right. I’ll be down as fast as I can get there. I’m terribly sorry. Is Dr. Hollingsworth mad?”

“No. You know him. He’s awfully nice about these things. He did ask if you called in, though. He asked twice. Are you sick?”

She looked at Beebo, who grinned at her. “Yes, I’m sick,” she said, setting her chin.

“Well, gee, maybe you’d better not come in, then.”

“No, I’ll be all right.” She glared at Beebo who was laughing at her red cheeks. “I’ll be in right away.” She hung up and brushed past Beebo haughtily without looking at her.

“Laura,” said Beebo, coming after her, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re not going to work.”

Laura picked up her wrinkled clothes and said, “Do you have an iron?”

“You won’t need it.”

“I can’t go out like this.” Laura held up her rumpled dress, trying to shake it out.

“Then you just can’t go out.” Beebo stretched out on the bed and made a clucking noise at her. “Poor baby,” she said.

“Why is it you’re such an angel in bed and a bitch out of bed?” Laura snapped.

For answer, Beebo only lay on her back and laughed at her. Laura looked at her lithe body and after a moment she had to turn away to keep from lying down beside her. “I don’t even like you, Beebo,” she said harshly, hoping it would hurt. “I don’t know why I can’t keep away from you.”

“It’s because I’m such an angel in bed, Bo-peep,” Beebo said. “That’s all you care about. That’s all you want from me.”

Laura whirled and threw one of her shoes at her. “Bitch!” she exploded. The hurt had backfired. Beebo spoke the truth. And then Laura turned away to hide the surprise she always felt when the passion in her burst to the surface. In silent embarrassment she slipped into her panty girdle, burningly aware of Beebo’s amused stare while she pulled it over her hips.

“I wouldn’t bother, baby,” Beebo said lazily.

“Why not?” Laura wouldn’t look at her.

“Number one, I hate the damn things. Number two, you don’t need one. Number three, you can’t go to work in a girdle. Period. And that’s all the clothes you’re going to get.”

“What?” Laura turned around.

Beebo had gotten off the bed and with two or three sweeping gestures she grabbed Laura’s clothes and headed for the bathroom.

“Beebo, what are you doing? What’s the matter with you? Give me those things! Beebo!” Laura tugged at her but Beebo, laughing, was too much for her. Nix burst out of the bathroom as Beebo shouldered in. She turned on the shower full force and threw the clothes over Laura’s head into the drink. And while Laura was still spluttering at her she threw Laura in, too, gently, dumping her on the clothes. Everything, everybody, was soaked.

“Beebo, you animal! You’re impossible!” Laura said furiously. She turned off the water angrily and snatched up her clothes, wringing them out into the tub. She was trembling with anger. She faced Beebo with a crimson face and threw the clothes at her.

“Take the girdle off, Bo-peep,” said Beebo with unconcern. She threw the clothes over a wooden drying rack. “It doesn’t do a thing for you.”

Outraged, Laura tried to scratch her, but Beebo pinned her back against the bathroom door and kissed her. Laura bit her and only made her laugh. With a feeling of excitement so strong it almost made her sick, Laura knew what was coming.

“No!” she exclaimed, suddenly sobbing. “No, I won’t! No!” But it was submissive, helpless. Beebo forced her to her knees. Standing spreadlegged beside her, she put her strong hands behind Laura’s neck and pressed Laura’s face into her belly. “I said I’d never stop, Bo-peep. I said never, remember?”

“Please, Beebo ...” Frustration and desire were both so strong in Laura now that she was nearly out of her mind. Her weakness had got her again, and Beebo would make the most of it.

* * * * *

It was late afternoon before she called Marcie. She had left under such peculiar circumstances that she was afraid of what Marcie must be thinking. She didn’t want to call. Marcie was angry with her, to Laura’s surprise.

“You told me you were coming right back,” she said.

Laura was bewildered. “I meant to,” she said. “I swear, Marcie.”

“You lied to me.”

“No, I didn’t, I just didn’t know—I mean—”

“Don’t lie to me any more, Laura. It makes me sick. I thought we were finally getting close to each other. I thought we were finally going to be friends.” She sounded upset.

“But Marcie, we are.”

“I know where you went, Laura.”

Laura went white, and Beebo, who was lounging around the kitchen making dinner, turned to watch her with a frown. “What do you mean, Marcie?” Laura said.

“I nearly lost my mind,” she said. “I would have called the police and made a fool of myself. But I called Jack first, thank God. Laura, why won’t you tell me the truth? Why won’t you just admit that I make you nervous? This isn’t the first time I’ve driven you over to Jack’s. If you don’t tell me what I’m doing wrong how can I ever do anything right?” Her voice broke. “I feel as if I’m making your life intolerable. As if you’d rather move in with Jack and live in sin than put up with me. You might as well, you spend so much time in his bed.”

“Marcie! Marcie, I don’t!” Laura was thunderstruck.

“I’ve already talked to him, so don’t deny it, Laura.”

“Marcie, honey, listen to me. I—” She looked up at Beebo and the look on Beebo’s face silenced her. “Marcie, we’ll have a long talk tonight. I’ll try to explain it to you. We can’t talk over the phone.”

There was a brief pause on Marcie’s end. Then she said, “Are you at Jack’s now?”

“I—no—I’m at the office.”

“You must have just gotten there. I’ve been trying to get you all afternoon.”

Laura got more bewildered, more tongue-tied, the more she lied. “Marcie, I can’t talk now,” she said urgently. “Please. I’ll come right home. I’ll explain.”

“All right, Laura. But I’ll tell you right now, I’m ready to move out if you want me to. I’m sick and tired of getting on your nerves and not knowing why.”

Laura shut her eyes and tried to control her voice.

“Laura? Are you still there?”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll see you tonight, Marcie.” She hung up and turned a pale face to Beebo.

Beebo snorted and opened the refrigerator door. “She still straight?” she asked sarcastically.

Laura was stung. “No,” she flung at her. “She’s falling in love with me.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Bo-peep.”

“I’m not kidding. And I’m not blind. She’s jealous of Jack. She thinks I spent the night with him and it’s her fault. She wants me home.”

“How sweet,” said Beebo and chucked her under the chin. Laura pushed her hand away impatiently.

“My clothes should be dry by now,” she said, getting up.

“Call Jack,” said Beebo. “Ask him what he told your roommate.”

Laura hated to do anything Beebo suggested, just because Beebo suggested it. But Beebo was right. Laura called him at the office. She got him five minutes before closing.

“I found out from Mortin—the bartender at The Cellar,” he said, “And if you pull another fast one on me, Mother, by Jesus, I’m going to let you stew in your own juice. I called you a dozen times last night. You must have been out on Cloud Nine. Marcie’s mad as hell. She thinks I’m corrupting you.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Laura said earnestly. “Jack, what would I do without you?”

“I don’t know. But I wish to hell _you_ did. Marcie’d like to see me behind bars.”

“Jack, isn’t that a good sign? I mean she seems almost jealous.”

“Oh, Christ,” he said, and then he laughed. “You’re really goofy for her, aren’t you?”

Laura looked up at Beebo. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”

“Well, watch it. I don’t know what to tell you. Nothing seems to register. If I say ‘she’s not gay’ to you once more I’ll sound like a broken record. But she’s not. I don’t want to see you get stabbed, that’s all. Better you should blow off steam with Beebo until you get over Marcie.”

“I’ve blown off about as much steam as I can stand,” Laura said, and Beebo laughed. “I’m through.”

“Don’t be so dogmatic, Mother mine. You’ll only have to swallow your words and you’ll look like an ass doing it.”

Laura wouldn’t believe him when he told her Marcie was straight. She wouldn’t because she didn’t want to. She had told him, she had even told Beebo now, that Marcie was falling for her. She didn’t dare believe it herself, but if somebody else did, maybe somehow that would help. Her desire, her pride, trapped her. “Thanks again, Jack,” she said. “One of these days I’m going to do the same for you. I swear.”

“One of these days you may have to. And Laura—”

“Yes?”

“Watch out for Burr. You’re on his black list.”

“What’d I do?”

“He thinks you’re turning his pretty little sex-pot into a neurotic. He’s jealous.”

Laura smiled, surprised.

“Well?” said Beebo, when she hung up. “Going home to your little wife?” She grinned.

“Beebo, sometimes you make me sick.”

“I know. I’m enough to make you go straight. Go sleep with Jack tonight, it’ll do him a world of good.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“At least it’ll give him a whopper to tell his analyst.”

Laura turned on her heel and left the room. She felt her clothes, hanging in the bathroom. They were still damp, but dry enough to iron. She brought them into the kitchen. “Where’s the ironing board?” she said.

“Pretty determined, aren’t you?”

“I certainly am.”

“I’ve got dinner ready. You can eat before you go.” There was a faint tone of pleading in her voice, as if she knew the time had gone when sheer force was useless. Laura had made her mind up.

“I don’t want another thing from you, not even dinner.”

“No, not for another day or two,” Beebo said and her voice became rougher as she talked. “You just want to run down for kicks once or twice a week. I’m pretty damn convenient, aren’t I?” She pulled the board out from the wall and plugged the iron in, her movements sharp and angry. Laura felt a little afraid of her. Her blue eyes snapped and there was no trace of her usual humor in her face.

“You’re the bitch, Laura, not me. You’re using me,” she said. “Go on, iron the damn thing.” She waved a hand at Laura’s dress and Laura spread it out on the board.

“I’m sorry, Beebo,” Laura said, taken aback.

“Sure you are.”

“All right, Beebo,” she said softly. “I won’t bother you any more. Ever.”

Beebo snorted at her. “You try it and I’ll beat you, I swear I will,” she said. “I’ve had enough from you, Laura. I’m not made of stone. Am I nothing to you? Am I supposed to _believe_ I’m nothing to you? Do you think I like to stand and listen to you slobber over that simpering little roommate of yours? Can she give you what I can give you? Well damn it, _can_ she?”

Laura couldn’t face her, much less answer her. She only worked the iron over her dress and glanced at Beebo’s shoes.

Beebo’s voice softened a little. “Jesus, what a mess,” she said, leaning on the refrigerator. “Here I am falling for you. I ought to have my head examined. I ought to know better.” She came over to Laura and took the iron out of her hands and Laura had to look at her. “Laura,” Beebo said, leaning toward her, “I’m nuts for you. I wasn’t kidding.” They gazed at each other, Laura surprised and scared and flattered all at once. “I need you, baby,” Beebo whispered. “Please stay.”

“I can’t, Beebo,” Laura said.

“You don’t really think you’re in love with that little blonde, do you?”

“Yes.”

Beebo shook her head and shut her eyes for a minute. “Jack says she’s straight. Jack is a shrewd boy. Don’t you believe him?”

“No.”

“You want to get the Miseries, Baby? That’s the quickest way.”

“You don’t know her, Beebo. Even Jack doesn’t know her as I do. She’s changing. She seems interested in me. She’s sort of approachable. She doesn’t even want to see her ex-husband anymore. She wants to stay home at night with me. She breaks dates with him to do it.”

“All right.” Beebo turned away. “Suppose she’s gay. Suppose she is. What then?” She turned to look sharply at Laura.

Laura was stumped. She had never looked beyond the present into that possibility. What would it be like, just the two of them, both gay, living together, in love? “Well, then everything will be wonderful,” she said.

Beebo gave a short unpleasant laugh. “Yeah,” she said. “Wonderful. You walk hand in hand into the sunset.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Beebo. I never made a secret of my feelings for Marcie.”

“I never made a secret of mine for you, baby.”

“We’d never do anything but fight, Beebo.”

“Fight and make love. I could live forever on such a diet.” She smiled a little.

“It would drive me crazy. I couldn’t take it.”

“Do you think there won’t be fights with your little Marcie if she turns out gay?”

“I suppose there will.”

“You know damn well there will. And if she’s straight, what happens? She reads you the Riot Act. Calls the cops. Sics her husband on you.”

“She wouldn’t do any of those things, Beebo. She’s a sweet girl. She wouldn’t get wild like you.”

“Not according to Jack. You’ve known her four months. Jack’s known her for years.” Beebo lighted a cigarette and blew the smoke through her nose. “Want to know something, Bo-peep? Want to know what it’s like? I’ve had it happen to me—more than once. If you’re gay, it just happens now and then, that’s all. You get the bug for some lovely kid and you can’t keep it to yourself. You get closer and closer. And if she plays along it’s worse and worse. And finally you give in and you grab for her. And she turns to ice in your arms.”

She looked at Laura and there was a deep regret in her eyes. “And she gets up with the God-damnedest sort of dignity and walks across the room and says ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for you. Now go away. Don’t talk, don’t try to explain, I don’t want to hear. It makes me sick. Just go away, and I won’t tell our friends. You don’t need to worry. Just so I never see you again.’ It makes you heartsick, baby. You get so sick inside. You give yourself the heaves. All you want in God’s world is to get the hell out of your own skin and be normal. Fade into the crowd like a normal nobody.” She crushed her cigarette out, grinding it into the ashtray with her thumb till the paper burst and the brown tobacco spilled out.

Laura felt closer to her. All the insults of the day faded in her mind. She walked over to her, her pressed dress over one shoulder. “Beebo,” she said softly.

But Beebo wasn’t ready to let herself be touched. “Just remember one thing,” she said. “Too many Marcies in your life, and you commit suicide. That’s what it is to be gay, Laura. Gay.” Laura stepped back a little shocked. “Sometimes all it takes is one,” Beebo said.

“No,” Laura whispered. “Oh, no.”

“Okay, baby, go find out for yourself. I can’t stop you, Jack can’t stop you.” Beebo’s eyes were brilliant with bitterness, with the hard knowledge of her own experience. “Go play with your little blonde. You’ll find out soon enough she has claws. And teeth. And when you get to playing the wrong games with her, she’ll use them.”

“Never!” Laura said. “Even if she’s straight she won’t hurt me. She’s not that kind.”

“She doesn’t _have_ to hurt you, idiot. Can’t I get that through your head? All she has to do is say ‘no thanks’. Kindly. Sympathetically. Hell! If you want her bad enough, you’ll die of it. I know, Laura, I know!” And she took Laura’s shoulders and shook her head until Laura felt like sobbing. Beebo released her suddenly and they stood in silence, unable to talk, heavy with feeling, trembling.

Finally Beebo said quietly, “Go on, baby. Go home and get it over with. You’ve been warned.” All the fight seemed gone out of her.

When Laura left, Beebo came to the door with Nix at her heels. She was unsmiling. “Come back, baby,” she said. “To stay. Or don’t come back at all.” And when Laura turned away without answering she called after her, “I mean it!”

Chapter Twelve

Laura entered the penthouse and walked slowly back to the bedroom. It was hard to imagine Marcie’s mood. Marcie looked up from her bed, her hair in pincurls. She was a relief to Laura’s eyes after the stormy, ranting handsomeness of Beebo. Marcie looked beautiful, even with tin clips in her hair. But she looked cool, too; ready for a fight.

Laura slipped her jacket off without a word, thinking of the loud quarrels she and Beth used to have. And how they resolved them with love. A little curl of excitement twisted around her innards.

“Well?” Marcie said sharply. “Did he throw you down in the street?”

Laura was startled, offended. Marcie had no right to say such a thing. “What do you mean?” she said.

“Your dress,” Marcie said, nodding at it.

Laura looked down at it. Beebo had dragged it over the bathroom floor and the dirt, together with a hasty pressing job, made her look like she’d been through a scuffle. “Marcie,” she said, trying to control her voice, and not sure when she started talking what she was going to say, “Marcie, I didn’t sleep with Jack.”

Marcie turned her eyes down to the book she was holding, and her expression said, Tell me another one. “With who, then?” she said.

Laura pressed her lips together and sat down on Marcie’s bed. _I won’t yell at her_, she told herself. _I can’t take the chance. I’d say the truth, I’d blurt it out by mistake._ “Marcie, I just ended up down in the Village.”

“Did you wander around all night?”

“No. No.” She looked down at the floor. “Well, I—”

“You what?” Marcie looked at her.

“Marcie, I _didn’t_ spend the night with Jack.” Her voice begged for understanding.

“Jack has friends.”

Even in her mounting irritation Laura sensed jealousy and it thrilled her. “Yes, Jack has friends. And they aren’t all men.”

“Don’t tell me you spent the night with a girl. Ha! That’s even better. You just hang around with anybody who’s handy, don’t you.”

“You aren’t very choosy yourself, Marcie.”

“Only with Burr!” Marcie flashed angrily. “I only sleep with Burr. And I was _married_ to him. Besides, I haven’t let him touch me for weeks. You’ve never been married, not to Jack or anybody else.”

“And I’ve never slept with Jack or anybody else.”

“I don’t believe you!”

Laura stood up and looked down at her. “You don’t have to, Marcie,” she said. “What the hell do you care who I sleep with? Or why? Are you guardian of my morals? Yours aren’t perfect, you know. I haven’t slept with Jack, for your information. Not once. But if I had, what would it matter? You thought it was all a good joke at first.”

Marcie’s face began to color. She put her book down and looked diffidently at Laura, who was standing by her dresser taking off her clothes. Marcie ran her fingers over her lips, as if warning herself to shut up and Laura thought to herself, _Just like me. Just like me when Beth used to taunt me. I wanted her so. And I was so afraid._

“I didn’t know it would get so serious, at first. With Jack,” Marcie said, her attitude softening. “I feel like it’s my fault, what you’re doing, and I—I feel real bad about it. I’m scared. Maybe you’ll get into trouble, maybe you’ll blame me then. You get so _odd_ sometimes. I guess I’m just being selfish, Laur. But—” She gave an audible sigh that made Laura turn to glance at her. “Laur, will you tell me—will you _please_ tell me—why you keep running out of here at all hours of the night? What am I doing wrong? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to move out of here tomorrow, I swear. I can’t stand it!”

Laura had to tell her something. She had to lie and she couldn’t lie and as she walked toward Marcie’s bed, she felt something like panic at the thought of losing her. But when she sat down beside her something popped into her head and saved her. She didn’t have to stammer and blush, and she didn’t have to confess her homosexuality. She told Marcie about her father.

She was almost ashamed to recount what had happened. It was humiliating, and it looked like a bald bid for sympathy. And yet she wanted terribly to touch Marcie’s heart, to win her compassion. “He told the clerk he had no daughter.” She finished. Her shame made her drop her gaze and cover her face with her hands. But Marcie, suddenly moved, put her arms around Laura and cried.

“Forgive me, Laura,” she whispered. “I’ve been a stupid idiot about this. I don’t know what got into me. Honey, forgive me, I should never have tortured you about it. Whatever your father did to you, he must be a beast. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

But that was going too far, even for Laura. There had been violent moments of shame and rejection, when she wanted to kill him. But there were others when she wanted only to be allowed to love him. “Don’t say that, Marcie.”

Marcie looked up at her, her face so close that she gave Laura a start. “Don’t tell me you still feel anything for him?” she said. “After what he did to you?”

“I don’t know what I feel. I hate him sometimes, Marcie, I hate him so much sometimes that I’m terrified of myself. I think ‘If he were with me right now—if he suddenly appeared—I’d kill him. I’d _kill_ him!’” And she said it with such force that Marcie shuddered. “And then, other times, all I want to do is cry. Just cry till there aren’t any tears left. Get down on my knees and beg him to love me.”

“It seems so crazy, Laur. My Dad is so nice and ordinary. I couldn’t take it if he ever hurt me like yours. God, you must feel so alone. Laura, let me be close to you. Let me be friends with you. You haven’t up to now, you know.”

Laura began to feel dizzy. _This is too much, this is too easy_, she thought, and pangs of conscience came up in her. _All I have to do is pull her close, caress her, kiss her, all I have to do—oh, my God! But I can’t! It’d be like corrupting her, like leading her astray. Damn! Why have I got a conscience? Beth didn’t have one. Neither does Beebo. Why me? Why can’t I just take her?_ But she was too afraid.

“Laura, talk to me. You’re off in another world again.”

Laura looked down at her, balanced between desire and fear, between desire and conscience, between desire and ... desire, desire....

“Marcie,” she whispered. “Remember the night you wanted to touch tongues?”

Marcie laughed a little, embarrassed. “Yes,” she said. “I told Burr about it. He says I’m cracked.”

Laura was shocked. “You told Burr?” she said, hurt by the betrayal.

“Well, don’t look so horrified.” Marcie giggled. “Don’t tell me you didn’t tell Jack?”

And Laura, by her sudden confusion, admitted that she had. With the admission, and the shock, came a clear head. She stood up. Marcie watched her. “I’m going to bed,” Laura said. “I’m too beat to talk. I’m just worn out.”

Marcie let her go without a word. Her eyes followed Laura around the room. Laura ignored her studiously. She was asleep within minutes after she lay down, too tired even to worry.

* * * * *

Laura knew she would have to lie to Sarah in the morning about where she spent the day before. She made up her mind to do it fast and simply. She organized a little story about a sick headache and she delivered it quickly, even before Sarah had a chance to ask. Sarah took it at face value.

At the end of the day, she called Marcie and told her she’d be late. “I’ve got to stay here and catch up,” she explained. “I’ve done nothing but get behind the whole time Jean’s been away. I just can’t seem to get the work done. I’m not going to lose this job.”

“You’re wearing yourself out, Laur. I think you’re crazy. You can get a much softer job and earn a lot more money. In fact I talked to Mr. Marquardt about you.”

“You _what_?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “Today. I thought it would be fun if we could be in the same office. Besides, I never saw anybody work like you do. It’s insane, when all you have to do is sit around.”

“Marcie, I don’t _want_ to sit around! I don’t need help! I can do this myself. I know you did it out of friendship but damn it, I _want_ to work. I don’t want to sit around on my behind all day, counting the minutes till the next coffee break.”

Marcie was taken aback by the forcefulness of it. “Laura, I didn’t mean—” she began, and her voice was hurt.

“I know, I know. I’m grateful, Marcie, forgive me. But I have something to prove, staying here. It’s only hard at first, when you’re learning. It’ll get easier. And in another two weeks there’ll be three of us at the office.”

She knew she had hurt Marcie’s feelings and when she hung up she wondered if it was worth it. _Why don’t I quit? Why don’t I take a soft job, like Marcie?_ But she knew what scorn her father would pour on a job like that. It was only the tough ones, the ones that took it out of you, that demanded your best, that he had any respect for.

Laura stayed on until nearly eight by herself. The building was crypt-quiet and she was deep in the last round of reports she intended to do, when the door opened and a voice said, “Laura!”

Laura gave a gasp of shock, throwing her hands over her face. She was so startled that she found herself trembling all over. For a moment she was unable to move.

“Laura?” he said again.

Laura turned slowly around in her swivel chair, taking her hands away from her face. She looked up, her face cold and white and resentful. It was Burr. She didn’t say a word. She only stared at him in surprise. She felt overflowing with hatred for him, as if Merrill Landon were standing there.

Burr was somewhat taken aback. “Marcie said you were down here,” he said, a little awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you.” He shrugged, and pulled Sarah’s chair out from her desk, sitting down about five feet from Laura. She said nothing.

“Laura,” he said, embarrassed. “We started out to be pretty good friends, you and I.” He turned his hat around and around in his hands, studying it while he talked. “Then—I don’t know why—we seemed to—well, we just didn’t have anything to say to each other. I guess maybe because we always talked about books. And Marcie. You don’t seem to be reading any books any more. And Marcie—well....” He seemed at a loss for words here. He twirled his hat assiduously, as if that might give him some answers. But it was no help. “Of course, I haven’t been around much lately, either,” he said.

Laura was suddenly a little scared. But she was determined not to be any more helpful than his hat. She only glared at him. She still hadn’t said a word to him. _After all_, she thought, _I haven’t done anything. He still hasn’t said what he wants._

“Well, frankly Laura, Marcie’s changed. I don’t know what the hell’s come over her. I thought maybe you could help me out.” He eyed her closely. “I guess it sounds pretty silly. But I love her, and all of a sudden I can’t even see her any more. I can’t get near her. She’s just not interested.” When Laura still said nothing he went on, “I mean, I know it’s not your problem, but I thought, being her roommate, you know, you might help me out.” He looked up at her, smiling a little, but his smile faded when he saw the look on her face.

Laura was thinking, _Why the hell should I help you?_ But she said, “Why don’t you stop fighting with her, Burr? Maybe that would help.” Her voice was faintly sarcastic.

“When we fought,” he said, “at least we could always make up. That was fun. We both enjoyed it. Then all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, Marcie wouldn’t fight any more. I don’t know what the hell got into her. She just got quiet and thoughtful. She wouldn’t fight and she wouldn’t make love. I’m beginning to think she needed to fight before she could make love. Maybe that’s the only thing that excited her.” He looked quizzically at Laura.

“How would I know? Maybe _you_ needed it,” Laura said, and shrugged.

By her reticence she had made Burr uncomfortable. “Well, I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing to bother you with,” he said, making a visible effort to control his temper. “But damn it, Laura, I love her. She’s my wife. I still think of her that way, I can’t help it. I was a fool ever to let her have that divorce.”

“Do you think getting married again would change any of that?” Laura said. “Don’t you think it would just be the same old fights all over again?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe. But I’d rather live with Marcie and fight than live without her and be this miserable.”

“Does fighting make you happy?”

“I don’t mind it. Not enough to make me give her up again.”

“You talk like a kid, Burr,” she said, wondering what authority gave her the right to pronounce judgments. And then she reasoned that Burr himself gave her the right. He asked for it. Okay, he’d get it. “If you want to win Marcie back, find out what’s the trouble and change it. If you want my opinion—and I guess that’s why you’re here—I don’t think you should go back together. I think Jack’s right; you were never meant for each other. It’s purely physical.”

These were hard words, but even so Laura wasn’t prepared for the effect they produced. Burr went pale and his mouth dropped open. Suddenly he stood up. “Jack said that?” he said incredulously. “_Jack?_”

And Laura went a little sick. She had violated a confidence, without even meaning to. The one person she couldn’t bear to hurt, to alienate right now, was Jack. “Maybe I’m mistaken,” she said quickly. But who else could it be? “It was me, Burr, I don’t know why I said that. It wasn’t Jack.”

“Oh, it was _you_!” He had been surprised into a fury. He had been nursing his grievance, trying to talk calmly to Laura. Now his feelings got out of control. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Laura. I don’t believe you. It was Jack or you wouldn’t have said so. You’re a lousy liar. Now suppose you explain something to me.” He leaned with his fists on her desk.

Laura leaned away from him, frightened now. “Calm down, Burr,” she said, but he ignored her.

“You and Jack can both go to hell!” he said. “You’ve been psychoanalyzing the situation over a couple of beers in your spare time. A couple of cocktail-hour psychologists. Oh, don’t think I can’t see it. Well, I don’t give a damn for what you think. I love Marcie!” He was shouting. “I love her! And I’d like to know why the hell she doesn’t love _me_ any more. _Why_, Laura? _You_ tell me. Why would she rather stay home with you at night than go out with me? Why does she talk about Laura, Laura, Laura all the time? Laura reads this, Laura does that, Laura says! God, I’m sick of it!” His ugly suspicions exploded in her face.

“She doesn’t, Burr, you’re mistaken.”

“Mistaken!” he roared, his face turning scarlet. “Mistaken! Oh, you’re a bitch, Laura! Mistaken! And she won’t make love to me any more. She won’t see me. You’re the only one she gives a damn about. She can’t get enough of you at home, she’s got to get you a job in her own office. Yes, she told me about it,” he interrupted himself, when Laura gave a little gasp.

“Burr, you fool, you’re making things up,” Laura said. She looked cold and controlled, but there was a terror inside her that he couldn’t see. She rose in her seat and faced him, their faces not a foot apart. “Now get out of here.” It had worked before with other men. It had to work now with Burr. She would give him no satisfaction.

“Don’t tell me you’re not up to some God-damn funny business,” he growled.

“I’m not up to any God-damn funny business,” she replied quietly.

“Then what’s all this crap about touching tongues? In the dark? In bed? Why does Marcie follow you around like you were Svengali?”

“She doesn’t.”

“Don’t tell me she doesn’t!” he shouted in a fury, bringing his fist down with a huge thump on her desk. “I know she does. I know!”

“Burr, you’re insane with jealousy.”

“What’s going on between you two?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m a bad liar, you said it yourself. If I had ever touched Marcie I couldn’t lie about it.” She glared at him, her face a mask, almost white; her eyes brilliant and her body tense.

“You want her. Admit it.” He was quiet now, but it was the quiet of hatred.

“I won’t admit anything. Who the hell are you? I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“She’s my wife.”

“So she’s your wife. She’s _my_ roommate. She prefers to live with me.” Laura was dangerously near throwing her advantage in his face.

“You _are_ queer! By God, I knew it!”

“How dare you!” And the hot blood came to Laura’s face. “Get out of here! You bastard!”

“All right, deny it, then!”

“I’m not accountable to you, Burr. I won’t admit or deny anything. I don’t have to. I’ll call the police if you don’t get out of here. I’ll sue you for libel if you make that accusation in public. I never laid a hand on Marcie.”

“That’s not what Marcie said.”

For a shocked second Laura was unable to move or respond. Then she gasped and staggered a little. There was a terrible silence, heavy with the awful meaning of his words.

Laura sat down shaking. She began to cry.

Burr watched her in silent fury for a moment. Then he said, “I thought that’d get you, you bitch.” His voice was low and dry. “I came here to talk to you like a human being, to give you a chance. But you act like a God-damn queen. You act like I was in the wrong, not you! Like I was an animal. Well, you’re no better. You’re a pervert, Laura. And I’m going to get Marcie away from you if I have to call out the cops to do it. You’re not going to touch her again.” He turned sharply and started out.

“Burr! Burr! My God, wait! What did she say? What did she tell you?”

“Can’t you guess?”

“She made it up, Burr, believe me. Please believe me.” She was begging him now. “You know how she is.”

“Yeah, I know how she is. She didn’t make this up.”

“She did! She’s lying.”

“She’s telling the truth. You’re perverting her. It’s obvious, even I can see it. Perverting her! My Marcie!” He almost wept when he said it, and Laura instinctively put a hand to her throat as if to protect herself.

“Burr,” she said and her voice was deeply intense and quiet, “I swear to you by God and Heaven and everything I hold sacred, I never—”

“You hold nothing sacred! You’re a walking profanity! You’re a mockery of womanhood. You’re queer. _Queer!_ And you’re infecting Marcie. I’m going to get her away from you. Now. Tonight!” And he turned on his heel and walked out.

Laura called after him until he walked into the last operating elevator and disappeared. She sobbed wildly for a minute, collapsed in her chair. Then, as if electrified, she picked up the phone and dialed the penthouse, as fast as her trembling fingers would let her. She almost died of impatience before Marcie answered. “Hello?” Marcie said.

“Marcie! Marcie, what have you done to me? Answer me!”

“Laur?” Marcie’s voice sounded small and frightened. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“Burr just left me. I thought he was going to kill me. Marcie, what did you tell him?”

“Oh, Laura.” Marcie’s voice was only the faintest whisper. “I had no idea he’d—I didn’t think he’d bother you. I didn’t think he’d even mention it.”

“What did you tell him, Marcie?” Laura’s voice sounded almost hysterical.

“I—we quarreled.” Marcie was crying quietly while she talked. “We quarreled, for the first time in weeks. It was terrible. As if to make up for all those weeks when we didn’t fight at all. He accused me of—forgive me, Laura, I’m ashamed to say these words—of falling in love with you.”

Laura groaned despairingly.

“Laur, I’m so sorry. I guess I talked about you all the time. I get interested in somebody, or something and I just don’t talk about anything else for a while. I talked about you because I admire you so much. I—well, you know. He got the wrong idea, that’s all. But I didn’t realize it, I swear I didn’t, Laur. I would have stopped him if I had. And then we had this quarrel tonight and I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“What things? _What things_, Marcie?”

Marcie sobbed. “He accused me of trying to tempt you, of egging you on. Oh, Laura, this is too horrible, I can’t go on.”

“Tell me!”

“And I got so furious. It was so unfair. You know we haven’t done anything! He was just determined to believe it. He can’t believe I just don’t want to see him any more, that’s too hard on his damned pride. So he was just waiting for somebody to blame, and there you were. And I was so damn mad at him. It was hopeless, there was no talking to him. He was losing me because somebody else was winning me, that’s the only way he could see it. So I finally just shouted at him, ‘All right, have it your way, you big fool. Believe what you want to believe, I can’t stop you!’” She was interrupted by her own sobs.

“Marcie,” Laura said, making a huge effort to control herself, “Did you tell him that I ...” She could hardly get the words out. “... made love to you?”

“No! No, Laura!” Marcie cried.

“Did you tell him anything specific?”

“Absolutely not, I swear!”

Laura gave a sigh of relief. She began to cry again herself. After a moment she said softly, “Marcie, he’s on his way to the penthouse. He says he’s not going to let you spend another night in the same apartment with me. I’m infecting you.”

“Oh, Laura, honey. God!”

“So you’d better lock the door.”

“We don’t have a key!”

“Get one from the janitor.”

“I’m afraid of him. He’s down in the basement. It’s so dark down there and he always tries to make a pass at me.”

“I shouldn’t think that would bother you.” Laura couldn’t help the dig; it made her feel better.

“Laura, he’s nuts. He’s a meatball.”

“Well, damn it, do _something_!” Laura cried, exasperated. Then she forced herself to speak quietly. “All right, call the police,” she said. “Say your former husband is threatening you. Say you’re afraid of him, you think he wants to kill you. Say anything! Tell them he’s on his way over right now and you want protection.”

“Laura, I’ve never done such a thing in my life! Poor Burr! I’ve known him since I was a kid, I worshipped him.”

“You stopped worshipping him in a hurry when you had to live with him. Listen to me, there’s not much time. If you don’t want him to do something violent you’d better get some protection. I can’t fight him off for you. Unless you want to go with him tonight.”

“Go with him! That bastard! After what he did tonight? He can go to hell. Without me.”

“That’s where he’d like to see _me_,” Laura said. “I’d better not show up. I’ll stay down here for another hour or so. I’ll call you before I come home, to be sure the coast is clear.”

“Laura? I hate to call the police, Laur. It makes me sick.” She sounded miserable.

“Marcie for God’s sake, you’re a taxpayer. You’re entitled to protection. Burr was in a fit when he left here.”

Marcie began to weep again. “Laura, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said softly over the phone.

Laura’s heart softened too. “Oh Marcie,” she moaned. “I guess it really isn’t anybody’s fault. Burr’s still in love with you. None of us realized how much. He had to be jealous of somebody, and he knew you weren’t dating anybody else. We’ve all been pretty stupid about the whole thing. I just hope to God it blows over.” All of a sudden she felt powerfully tired.

“It’s all my fault,” Marcie said. “Everything’s my fault. I’ll make it up to you, Laura, I promise.”

“Never mind, honey. Just keep out of trouble tonight. I’ll be home about ten. I’ll call you first.”

“Okay.” Marcie was still crying when she hung up.

* * * * *

For a long time Laura sat at her desk, staring into space. The windows were black, gold-spangled with the city night, and everything was still.

She got up, feeling weak and tired, and yet not desperate or frightened any more. Burr had no proof of anything. Marcie would deny everything. And if things went as it seemed they must, Burr would act like a crazy man and convince the police he was bent on violence. Marcie would be genuinely frightened and it would show. There ought not to be any difficulty about it. She got her things together and turned out the office light.

The hall to the elevator was bare and echoing as she walked down it. The elevator boy was silent, as if he too had been touched by the vast quiet of the night.

Laura walked out on the street. People hustled by, lights shone, cars honked. But it all seemed far away, not very real. Her senses registered only half of what they perceived.

_Where shall I go? I’d better not try to go home for a while. Not till Burr leaves. Another hour, at least._

She looked at her watch: eight-thirty. She walked slowly, gazing ahead of her like a sleepwalker. _I’ll go somewhere where I can sit down and read_, she thought. She bought a magazine from a corner stand and sauntered on another couple of blocks until she saw the McAlton on the next corner.

She almost exclaimed aloud, as if the hotel had been sneaking up on her while she marked time on the sidewalk. She stopped in her tracks to stare at it and then looked self-consciously into a shop window. After a few minutes she moved on to the hotel.

_If I just sit in a corner, as if I’m waiting for somebody, they can’t do anything. I’ll just read this thing till nine-thirty or so._

A tiny unworded excitement knotted itself around her heart and stuck there, prepared to stay for as long as Laura stayed in the lobby. She didn’t go over to the desk. She just sat down in an alcove on a leather covered sofa next to a fat middle-aged woman. She read until nine-thirty.

Then she got up and walked halfway across the lobby to the phone booths, entered one, and dialed the penthouse. Marcie answered.

“Is everything all right, Marcie? It’s Laura.”

“Yes.” She sounded tired, reticent.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. The policeman got here right after Burr did. Burr was yelling like a crazy man. The policeman took him out and told him to stop bothering me or they’d take him down and book him. He was furious. He cried. But he went. Damn it, he deserved it, after what he did to you.”

“Are you alone now?”

“Yes.”

Laura suddenly felt enormously relieved. “Thank God,” she said.

“Will you be right home?”

“Yes. Right away.” She hung up and left the booth, putting some change in her purse. She felt much better. Burr was mad as hell, that was certain. But for the moment he would have to watch himself; he would have to be careful. Marcie was disgusted with him. Obviously force was the wrong way to get her back. And suddenly Laura saw her father.

Merrill Landon was about twenty feet from her, his face turned profile to her, talking to some men.

Laura gave a low cry, almost inaudible, and her heart stopped. The knot around it gave a tremendous squeeze, like a big angry fist, and stopped it altogether for a moment. It started again with a tremendous thump. She darted toward the little alcove, her face averted, but found all the seats taken. She stood facing away from him for a minute, her heart kicking wildly, wondering frantically what to do.

_I’ve got to be calm, I’ve got to be calm_, she said under her breath, but each time she said it it seemed more hysterical. She gulped convulsively and barely heard someone say in her ear, “Excuse me, dear. Are you all right?”

“Yes. Yes, thanks,” she said, her voice staccato, afraid to identify her questioner.

She shut her eyes tight for a minute. _If I just walk out quickly, he’ll never see me. The lobby is full, there are dozens of people in here. He’s not looking for me, he’s talking to some men, he won’t see me. I’ll just walk out._

She took a very careful glance behind her. He was facing her now, but not seeing her, gesturing, talking, engrossed in his words. He would never see her. For a second she permitted herself the luxury of looking hard at him; his big maleness, his strong face that could never be called handsome and yet compelled interest. That face that almost never smiled at Laura since she was five years old. That face she was condemned to love.

Laura turned away then and began to walk toward the door, keeping her face averted, hurrying, her heart pounding as if she were running up a steep hill. Near the door she slowed down a little. _I’ll never see him again_, she told herself fiercely. _Just one more glance. It will have to last me my life._ She turned around slowly, carefully, just five feet from the door and safety.