"It hurts to say it. I think you're lying."
"Why lying all of a sudden?"
"Not all of a sudden. It's a slow take. You recognize the writing, but you don't know whose. When I tell you the name, it doesn't ring a bell. Who the hell are you kidding, Judas?"
"Jake!"
"I'm fighting to hold on to what's between us, too. I don't think it can live through a lie. Not now. Not when I'm on the cross yelling for help. Is it a lie?"
Cooper shook his head.
"All of a sudden it's sour between us. Nothing I do is right. I try to plug your tune. No good. I try to hold the chiselers off. I stink. I try to fight my way out of a jam. You object. I suppose when I tell you I've set it up for you and one of the dancers to do a duet of 'We're The Most' in next Sunday's show you'll—"
"Damn you, Jake!" Cooper gestured angrily.
"I stink again. But by God you'll do it. What's got into you? What are you trying to do ... slug me when I come around the corner? I don't think you're trying to pull out of the rat-race. I think you're trying to pull me down into the grave!"
Cooper attempted to speak, then gave it up and stormed into his room. He slammed the door so hard that half a dozen books bounced off the shelves. Lennox made no move to pick them up. The phone rang. Lennox made no move to answer it. After five peals, it stopped, and a moment later the P-lady called downstairs. Lennox picked up the living room extension.