Laura was shaking almost convulsively. At the sound of her mother’s name she grabbed the thick and heavy glass ashtray from the dresser, picking it up with both hands. She rushed at him, unable to think or reason, and brought the ashtray down on the crown of his head with all the revolted force in her body. He slumped to the floor without a sound. Laura gaped at him for a sick second and then she turned and fled. She left the door wide open and ran in a terrible panic to the elevators. She sobbed frantically for a few moments, and then she pushed the down button. She jabbed it over and over again hysterically, unable to stop until an elevator arrived and the doors opened. She stumbled in and pressed into a back corner, helpless in the grip of the sickness in her. The operator and his two other passengers stared at her, but she paid them no heed, even when one asked if he could help her. At the ground floor the operator had to tell her, “Everybody out.” She turned a wild flushed face to him and he said, “Are you all right, Miss?” And she glared at him, violently offended by his manner, his uniform, his question. “Don’t you know those pants won’t make a man of you?” she exclaimed acidly. And rushed out, leaving him gaping open-mouthed after her. Chapter Fifteen Marcie called Jack late that night. “I haven’t heard from her. I wouldn’t bother you, but I don’t know where she is, and I’m worried,” she said. “Is she with you?” “No. What’s the matter, Marcie? It’s only ten-fifteen.” “She said she’d be home tonight. She promised.” “Did you call the office?” “Yes. She wasn’t there today.” “Was she sick?” “No.” Marcie was almost physically sick with shame and the fear that Laura would do herself violence. She knew well how passionately Laura could respond, how intensely she could feel. She had been truly alarmed when she called the office in the afternoon and Sarah told her they hadn’t seen Laura all day. And they’d damn well like to know where she was themselves. “She left the house this morning to catch the subway to work. She said she’d be back tonight, but she didn’t go to work. And she isn’t back,” Marcie told Jack. Jack’s first thought was Merrill Landon. “Out with it, Marcie. Tell Uncle Jack everything.” “Jack, I can’t—” Jack of all people! Jack, who had a crush on Laura. Marcie would have slit her throat before she would have betrayed Laura to him. She was in no madcap mood any longer. She had wounded Laura with a callousness that shocked even herself when she thought back on it. She had no yen to hurt any more. “Come on, doll, we’ve known each other for years,” Jack said. “Spill the beans.” “Jack, I won’t hurt her. Not even—” “Not even if she drops dead because you won’t tell me the truth.” “Oh! But she won’t!” “Oh, but she might! Now let’s have it.” “Jack, I don’t want you to think—” “I think all the time. It’s a congenital defect.” “Yes, but this—”