“What’s the first thing about women?” Jack asked, smiling, but they ignored him. “If men revolt her and somebody tried to—to lay her—he’d only make her sick. No matter how much he knew about women,” Laura said sharply. “Any girl who doesn’t like men is either a virgin or else some bastard scared the hell out of her. She needs gentling.” “You talk about us as if we were horses!” Laura flared. “Us?” Burr stared at her. “Us—us women.” Laura’s face was burning. Burr watched her as he talked. “Some girls get a bastard the first time,” he said. “It’s too bad. They end up in joints like this swapping horror stories with the other ones.” Laura hated the way he talked. She couldn’t take it. “What if the bastard is her father?” she said. “And he scares the hell out of her when she’s five years old? And twenty years later some ass who thinks he’s a great lover comes along and throws her down and humiliates and horrifies her?” Jack remarked, with amusement, and probably more enlightenment than the others, “Jesus, we have a moralist in our midst.” He looked at her as if she were a new species of fish. “Damn it, Laura, that’s the point,” Burr said. “He _wouldn’t_ humiliate her. I don’t mean some God-damn truck driver with nothing but a quick lay on his mind. I mean a considerate decent sort of guy—a sort of Good Samaritan—” He grinned and Marcie said, “God!” and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “—who really wants to help the girl,” Burr finished. “Why don’t you try it?” Jack said. Marcie’s face darkened. “Yes, darling, why don’t you prove your little theory? I’m sure we’d all be fascinated.” “Now damn it, don’t you go yammering at me. I’m talking to Laura.” “Excuse _me_!” Marcie said. Laura leaned toward her. “I didn’t mean to start anything,” she said. “Nobody ever does,” Jack remarked to himself. “He said he could lay any girl and make her like it,” Marcie said. “I said,” Burr said, turning to her and intoning sarcastically, “That any guy with any—” “We know what you said, boy,” Jack interrupted. “Let’s keep it purely theoretical. Nobody has to prove anything. Burr loves Marcie and Marcie loves Burr. Jack loves whisky and whisky hates Jack. Laura loves animals. Everybody happy?” Thinking over what she had said while Jack talked, Laura began to feel sick. She wished she had been perceptive enough to see where she was when they first came into The Cellar. But she took things at face value. They had entered a little bar and they were going to have a nightcap. Okay. What was so sinister about that? Why did it have to turn out to be a damn gay bar? And why did she have to react like an angry virgin when she found out? They stayed long enough to get pretty high. They were stared at by the regular customers, but Laura was afraid to stare back. When she did, once or twice, she couldn’t catch anyone’s eye. She was ashamed of herself for trying to, but she couldn’t help it.