Laura entered the penthouse and walked slowly back to the bedroom. It was hard to imagine Marcie’s mood. Marcie looked up from her bed, her hair in pincurls. She was a relief to Laura’s eyes after the stormy, ranting handsomeness of Beebo. Marcie looked beautiful, even with tin clips in her hair. But she looked cool, too; ready for a fight. Laura slipped her jacket off without a word, thinking of the loud quarrels she and Beth used to have. And how they resolved them with love. A little curl of excitement twisted around her innards. “Well?” Marcie said sharply. “Did he throw you down in the street?” Laura was startled, offended. Marcie had no right to say such a thing. “What do you mean?” she said. “Your dress,” Marcie said, nodding at it. Laura looked down at it. Beebo had dragged it over the bathroom floor and the dirt, together with a hasty pressing job, made her look like she’d been through a scuffle. “Marcie,” she said, trying to control her voice, and not sure when she started talking what she was going to say, “Marcie, I didn’t sleep with Jack.” Marcie turned her eyes down to the book she was holding, and her expression said, Tell me another one. “With who, then?” she said. Laura pressed her lips together and sat down on Marcie’s bed. _I won’t yell at her_, she told herself. _I can’t take the chance. I’d say the truth, I’d blurt it out by mistake._ “Marcie, I just ended up down in the Village.” “Did you wander around all night?” “No. No.” She looked down at the floor. “Well, I—” “You what?” Marcie looked at her. “Marcie, I _didn’t_ spend the night with Jack.” Her voice begged for understanding. “Jack has friends.” Even in her mounting irritation Laura sensed jealousy and it thrilled her. “Yes, Jack has friends. And they aren’t all men.” “Don’t tell me you spent the night with a girl. Ha! That’s even better. You just hang around with anybody who’s handy, don’t you.” “You aren’t very choosy yourself, Marcie.” “Only with Burr!” Marcie flashed angrily. “I only sleep with Burr. And I was _married_ to him. Besides, I haven’t let him touch me for weeks. You’ve never been married, not to Jack or anybody else.” “And I’ve never slept with Jack or anybody else.” “I don’t believe you!” Laura stood up and looked down at her. “You don’t have to, Marcie,” she said. “What the hell do you care who I sleep with? Or why? Are you guardian of my morals? Yours aren’t perfect, you know. I haven’t slept with Jack, for your information. Not once. But if I had, what would it matter? You thought it was all a good joke at first.” Marcie’s face began to color. She put her book down and looked diffidently at Laura, who was standing by her dresser taking off her clothes. Marcie ran her fingers over her lips, as if warning herself to shut up and Laura thought to herself, _Just like me. Just like me when Beth used to taunt me. I wanted her so. And I was so afraid._