“I know. We’ve hardly quarreled at all this week, Laur. You haven’t been around much, you haven’t seen us. But we’ve been getting along unusually well. But the screwy part is, it’s not like I thought it would be.” “You mean, you miss the quarrels?” “I mean I just wish he wouldn’t come around so much any more. I want time to change. To think.” “Think about what?” “About me. No, about anything _but_ me. That’s all I ever thought about before. You think about other things. You know what’s going on. You come home at night and you read all these books that are sitting around. You can’t even talk to me about them, because you know how stupid I am.” Laura was astonished. All these critical thoughts had gone through Marcie’s head, and Laura hadn’t been aware of it. Marcie had been watching her, admiring her, and she hadn’t known that either. _I’m plumb blind_, she thought. _And I thought I couldn’t know Marcie any better. Because I love her. And she talks like this to me. God!_ “Marcie, you don’t need to read books. It’s just a bad habit for introverts.” Marcie shook her head silently while Laura went on. “Beautiful girls like you don’t need to read,” she said. “That’s just it,” Marcie said. “I’m not going to be just another pretty idiot. I want to know something. I’m sick of knowing absolutely nothing. I want to be different. I want you to help me.” _She wants me_, Laura thought happily. _She wants me._ It was all she heard. “When you were gone all night with Jack—” She paused and looked away. “—I started to think. I couldn’t sleep, I don’t know why. I was thinking about you, Laur. I was wondering why you never talk to me, why we have so little to say to each other. We sit at the breakfast table and read the paper and go off without anything more than ‘good morning’. At night we go to bed and sometimes I talk, but it’s not a conversation. You listen, I guess you listen.” “I do!” “And I say the wrong things. And you go to pieces, like Friday night.” “No.” “Or else you run away. You go sleep with Jack.” “Marcie!” “I know you were with Jack again last night. He didn’t have to lie to me about it.” “But he didn’t. I wasn’t!” “Now don’t _you_ lie to me!” Laura stared at her, unable to speak. “Help me, Laura,” Marcie said, leaning toward her. “I want to change. I’m sick of myself. I’m sick of Burr.” The strangest craziest feeling started up in Laura; just an echo, faraway in herself. _She wants me to help her, to be with her. She admires me. Dear God, I’m afraid to wonder how much._ A very small smile curved the corners of her mouth. “I have to start somewhere,” Marcie said. “I want to talk to you like an intelligent human being, not an ignoramus.” Laura smiled at her. Almost without her realizing it, her hand had stolen back to Marcie’s yellow hair. “Do you, Marcie?” she said. It was a simple question, but it asked a thousand others. “Yes.” “Why?”