“We see each other,” Marcie went on, “because we can’t keep our hands off each other. We fight because we’re ashamed of what we want from each other. At least, I am. I guess Burr doesn’t have any shame. No, that’s not fair. I guess he’s the one who’s sure he’s in love. Sometimes I think I am, because I want to keep seeing him. And other times, I think it’s just his big broad shoulders.” “Don’t see him for a while,” Laura said. “Or try talking less when you do. See what happens. Or do you just want to keep torturing yourself?” “I guess I do,” said Marcie with such a disarming smile that Laura had to smile back. “Well, it’s not my business. I can’t pass out any helpful hints,” Laura said. _I won’t care about your personal life, I can’t_, she thought. Marcie laughed, walking around the room, peeling off her clothes. “Laura, you’re a funny girl,” she said. “You’re not like other girls I know.” “I’m not?” Laura felt an old near-forgotten sick feeling come up in her chest. “No. Other girls love to talk about things. They love to gossip. Why, I know some who would get started on Burr and keep going until they had to be gagged. But you’re different. You just sit there and read and think. Don’t you get worn out doing so much thinking?” “What makes you think I do so much?” “Oh, I don’t know. Don’t you?” “Everybody thinks.” “Not as much as you do.” “There’s nothing wrong with it.” “I don’t mean that. I mean—I guess I mean, why don’t you ever go out?” “I do. I saw that musical last week.” “I don’t mean with me. Or other girls. I mean with boys.” Laura loathed conversations like these. She felt as if she had spent her whole life justifying herself to somebody—mostly Merrill Landon, but others too. As if everything she did or didn’t do had to be inspected and approved. If it wasn’t approved it stuck in her craw somewhere and came up now and then to make her sick. “I’m new in New York,” she said. “I don’t know anyone yet.” “How about Dr. Carstens? You said he was good-looking.” “He’s married.” “Well, the other one, then?” “He’s practically married.” “Well, how about the big shot?” “He’s a grandfather.” She said it sarcastically. Marcie threw her hands up and laughed. “Laura, I’m going to have to do something about you.” “Don’t do anything about me, please, Marcie.” Something in the tone of her voice sobered Marcie up. “Why not?” she said. “I—I just don’t want to be a bother, that’s all.”