Laura stayed on until nearly eight by herself. The building was crypt-quiet and she was deep in the last round of reports she intended to do, when the door opened and a voice said, “Laura!”
Laura gave a gasp of shock, throwing her hands over her face. She was so startled that she found herself trembling all over. For a moment she was unable to move. “Laura?” he said again.
Laura turned slowly around in her swivel chair, taking her hands away from her face. She looked up, her face cold and white and resentful. It was Burr. She didn’t say a word. She only stared at him in surprise. She felt overflowing with hatred for him, as if Merrill Landon were standing there.
Burr was somewhat taken aback. “Marcie said you were down here,” he said, a little awkwardly. “I wanted to talk to you.” He shrugged, and pulled Sarah’s chair out from her desk, sitting down about five feet from Laura. She said nothing.
“Laura,” he said, embarrassed. “We started out to be pretty good friends, you and I.” He turned his hat around and around in his hands, studying it while he talked. “Then—I don’t know why—we seemed to—well, we just didn’t have anything to say to each other. I guess maybe because we always talked about books. And Marcie. You don’t seem to be reading any books anymore. And Marcie—well…” He seemed at a loss for words here. He twirled his hat assiduously, as if that might give him some answers. But it was no help. “Of course, I haven’t been around much lately, either,” he said.
Laura was suddenly a little scared. But she was determined not to be any more helpful than his hat. She only glared at him. She still hadn’t said a word to him.
After all, she thought, I haven’t done anything. He still hasn’t said what he wants.
“Well, frankly Laura, Marcie’s changed. I don’t know what the hell’s come over her. I thought maybe you could help me out.” He eyed her closely. “I guess it sounds pretty silly. But I love her, and all of a sudden I can’t even see her anymore. I can’t get near her. She’s just not interested.” When Laura still said nothing he went on, “I mean, I know it’s not your problem, but I thought, being her roommate, you know, you might help me out.” He looked up at her, smiling a little, but his smile faded when he saw the look on her face.
Laura was thinking, Why the hell should I help you? But she said, “Why don’t you stop fighting with her, Burr? Maybe that would help.” Her voice was faintly sarcastic.
“When we fought,” he said, “at least we could always make up. That was fun. We both enjoyed it. Then all of a sudden, a couple of weeks ago, Marcie wouldn’t fight anymore. I don’t know what the hell got into her. She just got quiet and thoughtful. She wouldn’t fight and she wouldn’t make love. I’m beginning to think she needed to fight before she could make love. Maybe that’s the only thing that excited her.” He looked quizzically at Laura.
“How would I know? Maybe you needed it,” Laura said and shrugged.
By her reticence she had made Burr uncomfortable. “Well, I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing to bother you with,” he said, making a visible effort to control his temper. “But damn it, Laura, I love her. She’s my wife. I still think of her that way, I can’t help it. I was a fool ever to let her have that divorce.”
“Do you think getting married again would change any of that?” Laura said. “Don’t you think it would just be the same old fights all over again?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Maybe. But I’d rather live with Marcie and fight than live without her and be this miserable.”
“Does fighting make you happy?”
“I don’t mind it. Not enough to make me give her up again.”
“You talk like a kid, Burr,” she said, wondering what authority gave her the right to pronounce judgments. And then she reasoned that Burr himself gave her the right. He asked for it. Okay, he’d get it. “If you want to win Marcie back, find out what’s the trouble and change it. If you want my opinion—and I guess that’s why you’re here—I don’t think you should go back together. I think Jack’s right; you were never meant for each other. It’s purely physical.”
These were hard words, but even so Laura wasn’t prepared for the effect they produced. Burr went pale and his mouth dropped open. Suddenly he stood up. “Jack said that?” he said incredulously. “Jack?”
And Laura went a little sick. She had violated a confidence, without even meaning to. The one person she couldn’t bear to hurt, to alienate right now, was Jack. “Maybe I’m mistaken,” she said quickly. But who else could it be? “It was me, Burr, I don’t know why I said that. It wasn’t Jack.”
“Oh, it was you!” He had been surprised into a fury. He had been nursing his grievance, trying to talk calmly to Laura. Now his feelings got out of control. “Well, I’ll tell you something, Laura. I don’t believe you. It was Jack or you wouldn’t have said so. You’re a lousy liar. Now suppose you explain something to me.” He leaned with his fists on her desk.
Laura leaned away from him, frightened now. “Calm down, Burr,” she said, but he ignored her.
“You and Jack can both go to hell!” he said. “You’ve been psychoanalyzing the situation over a couple of beers in your spare time. A couple of cocktail hour psychologists. Oh, don’t think I can’t see it. Well, I don’t give a damn what you think. I love Marcie!” He was shouting. “I love her!
