“I was listening to that,” she said.

“I’m getting a headache. It will go away if I have some quiet.” The newspaper was open now.

“Take some aspirin,” she said. “Where were you just now?”

“Taking a walk. I stopped for a cup of coffee.”

“What was the matter with the coffee here?”

“Nothing. Nothing was the matter with the coffee or the food.”

“Well, how do you think it makes me feel when you get up from a meal I’ve prepared?” Her voice quavered. “I have a right to know what’s going on. If everything was all right, why should I believe that you stopped for coffee?”

“I don’t care whether you believe it or not,” he said. “I don’t care how it makes you feel, either. I didn’t want to eat. I don’t want to talk to you. Is that clear?”

“You think you can get away with anything,” she said. She went to the radio. “I’m tired of you—” He had her wrist. He held her arm outstretched toward the radio, his grip so powerful she thought she could feel the bones flexing.

“Listen, I want to be left alone. I want you to leave me alone!”

“You’re hurting me, Colin!”

“I was off balance,” she said to Leland, “and he pushed me back. I tripped over my own legs and landed on my bottom. I bounced. It hurt, but I bounced, and he looked as if he wanted to laugh. But then, just as quickly, he looked very sorry, and he pulled me to my feet. I wanted to hit him, but he turned his back and went out of the room.”

“You didn’t go after him,” Leland said. That wasn’t what was on his mind. He had remembered something Kaminsky had told him.

“No,” she said.

“I’ve had the impression that MacIver never hit you.”

“That was an accident, really. He just wanted to push me back.”

“Did he say that?”

“No. Why?”

“Something that happened with Norma,” he said. Of course there had been no such thing. Leland thought that the act had been intentional and he had been trying for a little more information. It was not worth the risk of being caught in a lie or misstatement. “I want to know how he conducted himself between that night and the next,” he said.

“We didn’t spend that much time together. He slept on the couch again that night and I was just as glad. In the morning we had to get out of the house quickly. He had a different job at that time and he wasn’t due home until eight-thirty. He came in on time and I had his dinner ready. I had eaten. I had test papers to grade or something and I was working in the living room. He called me and I told him what I was doing. He said that he wanted to talk to me when I was finished. All right, I said. I had two hours’ work ahead of me. I kept at it for a while and then I realized that he had to be finished eating and he was just sitting there. That’s exactly what he was doing. I asked him what was wrong—nicely. He wanted to know if I was through with my work. I said no and he said he would wait. Then I saw that this was more important and I sat down.