“I’d do anything for you, Laur,” Marcie whispered. “Anything to make it up. If I could love you the way you want me to, I’d do that. I’ll even try, if you want it.” Laura slumped to the floor, her arms over her head, and sobbed helplessly. Marcie knelt beside her, profoundly afraid and ashamed. “Laura,” she said, “Do whatever you want with me. I’ve hurt you so terribly. Hurt me back if it’ll help. Do something. Do anything. I can’t stand to see you like this. Oh, Laura, Laura. Please don’t cry like that. Please.” Chapter Fourteen In the morning—the bleak morning that came in spite of everything and had to be faced—she could hardly look at Marcie. And Marcie, brimming with shame and pity, avoided her, breaking softly into tears from time to time. At breakfast Marcie said, “Laur, if you think you can bear to live with me I don’t want you to move out. Nothing was your fault, nothing.” “I couldn’t stand it, Marcie,” Laura said hoarsely without looking at her. “Neither could you.” She got up abruptly and left the table without having eaten a thing. Marcie got up and followed her. “I wish we could still be friends, Laur.” “We never were.” “Oh, but we were. I like you so much, Laura.” “Marcie, this is unbearable. Don’t talk to me. Please don’t.” “But I can’t just leave things like this, it’s too awful.” “I can’t help it.” “Laura, I’ll never get over this. I’ll never forgive myself. I hurt you so.” “Marcie, stop it!” She almost screamed at her. “I was a fool, a blind fool. I wouldn’t listen.” She was thinking of all the warnings from Jack and Beebo that she willfully ignored. But she caught herself and spared Jack another betrayal. That, at least, was something Marcie didn’t know and never would. “Never mind,” she finished. “Just drop it.” She turned away and busied herself, but Marcie wouldn’t let her go. “You will come back tonight, won’t you, Laura? You’ll stay here until you find another place? I’ll be sick if you don’t. This is your apartment as much as it is mine. I’ll move out if you’d rather. You know that, don’t you, Laur?” She was so anxious, so eager for conciliation, so disgusted with what she had done, that Laura felt a momentary relenting and looked shyly at her. “Please come back tonight,” Marcie whispered. “I’ll worry myself sick if you don’t. Please. Promise?” Laura shut her eyes for a moment and tried to control her voice. She hadn’t the courage to argue. She just said, “Yes,” and grabbed her purse and rushed out. * * * * * Laura knew, even before she reached the subway, that she wasn’t going to work that day. She knew it would be impossible for her to read, to type, to look up words, to answer the doctors, to joke with Sarah. It would be a nightmare of hypocrisy, utterly beyond her strength.