"That's what has to stop. That's why I hope he does come in here. That's why I asked Hattie to let me stay here—instead of just putting me on the phone exchange, the way it used to be. I wanted to go back with a bang. After the way you looked me over the other noon—that's exactly what I wanted to do."
"Funny."
"I see nothing funny."
"I thought—you were looking me over."
She sat down suddenly—folded in the middle and dropped into a chair. "You did?"
"Yes, I did."
"Well—here I am." She spoke in a low tone—not with resignation, not with spite. "All you have to do is say so."
I skipped that. "Marcia, I never needed to consider what sort of person you were. All I needed to think about was what sort of guy Paul is. And I could see—I thought I could—the whole thing coming apart—slowly, painfully, rottenly—"
"Go on. Play God with us poor mortals."
"My opinion—that's all—sure. I know Paul pretty well, though."