But once in a while he ran across somebody who made him feel sick of the mask he hid behind. Somebody who made him yearn to talk, quietly and seriously, about the things that mattered to him. It happened when he was unlucky enough to fall in love. Or when he met a loner like himself and felt an unspoken sympathy. It happened with Laura. It wasn’t easy for him to call her back. It would have been, if she hadn’t appealed to his emotions. There were a lot of girls he called just for the sake of their mutual amusement, or just to amuse himself. But if he bantered lightly with Laura it was more because he couldn’t help it than because he wanted to, more because he had found it almost impossible to talk straight anymore. At eight o’clock he showed up at the apartment. He walked into the living room without knocking and said, “It’s me.” When nobody answered he wandered through to the bedroom and found Laura giving Marcie a home permanent. “God, what a stink!” he said. Laura looked up in surprise. “I thought you were kidding,” she said. “About the date.” He smiled at her. She was dressed in tight chinos and a boy’s shirt. It was her favorite after work outfit. “You weren’t planning on the Stork Club, I see,” he cracked. “I wasn’t planning on anything.” “That’s a dangerous attitude, Mother. Always plan on something. Avoid accidents.” “Jack, you can’t have her,” Marcie said. “I’ll never get this thing right without her.” She waved a plastic curler at him helplessly. “You’re better off without it, doll. Take it from me. Come on, we’ll go as you are.” “Jack, I can’t. I had no idea—” “Come on. I want to talk to you.” “We can talk here.” “No we can’t. Marcie’s here.” “I won’t listen,” Marcie said with a smile. “Besides, I can’t talk,” he said, and Laura caught a glimpse of the shyness hidden in him. “I’m sober as a post.” He shrugged. “Let’s go.” “I can’t go like this.” “Never mind the pants, they’re becoming.” For some deep buried and curious reason she was flattered. She stood there hesitating and Jack took advantage of her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “Kidnapper!” Marcie wailed. “My coat—” Laura said. “You don’t need one. It’s balmy.” “So are you.” “Thanks.” He guided her down the steps. This was a switch for Laura. She had never been especially attractive to men before, starting at the beginning with her father and going right on up through college. She didn’t look warm and soft and yielding. She was remote and involved in herself, aloof from everybody, men included. She didn’t like them very much and they sensed it.