“It’s not crap. It’s a hell of a lot better for you than coffee, I can tell you that.” “Then why don’t you live on it, darling?” “If I wanted sarcasm tonight, I would have gone over to Chita’s.” “That whore!” “I—I think I’ll turn in,” Laura said softly and hurried toward the door. “Don’t be silly!” Marcie looked at her, chagrined. “You haven’t said two words to Burr.” “She couldn’t say two words, honey. You’ve been talking too fast. I couldn’t either, for that matter.” He went over to Laura and led her by the hand to a chair. “Let’s talk about you,” he said. “Sit down.” Laura felt ridiculous, but she obeyed him. “Where’re you from?” he demanded. “She’s from Chicago.” Marcie handed him his drink and perched on the drainboard of the sink. “Say something from Chicago, Laura.” He grinned at her. She shrugged and laughed, embarrassed. “What does your old man do?” Laura was startled to think of him. He had been out of her mind in the bustle of moving in with Marcie. “He’s a writer—a newspaperman,” she said. She looked so uncomfortable that Burr let it drop. After a slight quiet he said, “What do you think of my girl?” “Burr, please!” Marcie exclaimed, but he waved at her to shut up. “You know you won’t be rooming with her for long, don’t you?” He smiled at Laura, and it looked like a warning sort of smile. It made Laura faintly queasy, as if she had already done something wrong. Laura hated to compliment a woman. It was always hypocritical because she could never tell the truth without blushing. The more she admired a girl, the harder it was to talk about her. She began to blush. “She’s a very nice girl,” she said hesitantly. “Say it like you mean it!” Burr said. “She’s a wonderful girl. Even if she is a shrew.” “Damn! Stop humiliating us, Burr. You aren’t funny.” Burr stared at Laura, until she had to say something. “We get along just fine,” she said. “Sure. The first two days.” He laughed a little. “Burr!” Marcie exploded. “She’s a girl, not an ornery bastard male like you.” “Well, I hope you two will be ecstatically happy,” he said, and downed his drink. “I won’t be talked about like this!” Marcie said. She dropped down from the drainboard and started out of the room, but Burr caught her around the waist. He was sitting next to Laura, and he buried his face in Marcie’s stomach. Marcie tried to grasp his short hair and push him back. Laura felt the old revulsion rising in her. Burr was doing nothing very shocking or immoral. He was just embracing the girl he loved, the girl who had been his wife. Laura knew that intellectually but her spirit retreated from the sight, repulsed. “You know something, Laura?” Burr turned his head to look at her, still pressed against Marcie. “She acts like a damn virgin with me. She acts like she didn’t have any idea what it’s all about. Like we’d never been married at all, and I’d never—well, never mind what I did. She won’t let me do it anymore.”