But when Marcie said, “What are you two talking about?” Laura jumped, visibly startled. “Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Marcie said. She had made up her mind to treat Laura gently and carefully. Burr came in noisily behind her. “Hi, Laura,” he said, and stared at her pale face. “I didn’t hear you coming,” Laura said nervously. She wondered what Marcie had told Burr, and suddenly it was too much to stand there and face them. “I’m going to bed,” she said suddenly, briefly. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” It came to her then that she didn’t know what she was supposed to have done last night at all. Jack hadn’t told her. Jack, faster than Laura when he was on the spot, said, “Laura spent the night with Beebo Brinker. She’s an old friend of mine.” He spoke to Burr who apparently didn’t know what to think. _Damn Jack!_ Laura thought. _He didn’t have to say her name. That ridiculous name!_ Chapter Nine Marcie tried to be understanding with Laura when they were alone later. She said, “Jack told me all about it, Laura. I understand.” _What did he tell you? What do you understand? Why didn’t he tell me?_ She didn’t know how to act with Marcie. Her discomfort made her awkward and for the first time she found herself wishing to be without her for a little while. She didn’t want Marcie to try to comfort her. She just wanted to let it blow over. But Marcie was a warm-natured girl, and she was curious. She wanted to sit on Laura’s bed and talk about it. She kept saying, “Tell me about it, Laur. Tell me what happened. Don’t you know I wouldn’t be shocked?” At this point Laura revolted. “No, I _don’t_ know!” she said, and was immediately sorry. She raised her hand to her mouth. “Marcie, please. Please drop it.” “I’m sorry, Laur. I can’t do anything right tonight.” She looked so disheartened that Laura had to smile at her a little. “You do everything right, Marcie,” she said soothingly. “I’m the one who’s wrong. No, it’s true. I’m not like you. I can’t confess to people.” “You tell Jack things.” Laura was suddenly alert, alarmed. “How do you know?” she demanded. “What things?” “Oh, you’re always going off and talking. Like this morning. Why don’t you have long talks with me?” Laura sighed, relieved. “I don’t know. Jack is so easy to talk to, Marcie.” “Does that mean I’m not? I try to be.” She smiled invitingly. Laura, who had been lying on her bed, raised herself up on her elbows. “I never say these things like I mean them,” she apologized. “I only mean, I—” _I can’t talk to you because I’m in love with you, that’s what I mean. But that’s not what I can say._