"Working."
"Why?"
"Want to talk to her?"
"Yeah."
She kissed me again. "If the unfaithful mood ever comes over you—"
"Don't count on it."
She chuckled. "You're one of the lucky ones. Only—you don't know it. That's the way they are, mostly."
"Some compliment."
She nodded. Her metallic hair swung before my eyes. She got up from the arm of my chair. "So long! Don't worry about—you know who."
Marcia came to the door in a few minutes. She was wearing a black dress—a thin black dress and—nothing else. Her blue eyes were defiant.