Mary Marshall:
[after Barbara had partitioned all their stuff] Barbara, what I'm in prison for isn't catching.
Barbara Marshall:
I'm sorry, Mary, I... I keep hurting you, and... I really don't want to.
Mary Marshall:
I guess it is uncomfortable for you to meet somebody who's been in prison. Maybe when you get to know me, you'll feel differently.
Barbara Marshall:
I want to know you, Mary. Really, I do.
Mary Marshall:
How much do you know about me?
Barbara Marshall:
Not much. Mother and Dad still treat me like a child. Everything's a big secret.
Mary Marshall:
I don't think it would hurt for you to know. As a matter of fact, I think it might help. When I was your age, my mother died.
Barbara Marshall:
Oh, I remember her. Way back when I was young. She used to make clothes for my favorite doll.
Mary Marshall:
Yes, she was wonderful with her hands. And some time after that, my father went north on business. And then, when he died, I was on my own. I got a very good job as a secretary, and my job brought me in contact with a lot of very nice men, one of whom, might have turned out, I thought, to be the one who would give me all the things that you dream about when you're twenty and lonely. One day, when I was called into my boss's office, he invited me to a party in his apartment. He was single, and I started dreaming. Bosses do marry their secretaries. I took what money I'd saved and I bought an evening dress. I thought it was very fancy. I wanted to look good in front of his high class friends. He had sent me an orchid, a white orchid, the first one I'd ever had. I was wearing it. When the door opened, I walked into the biggest apartment I'd ever seen. I thought it was rich and elegant. I'd wanted to impress him, so I got there a little late. I'd wanted to make an entrance all by myself, but nobody else was there. I should have had sense enough then to get out, but I didn't. He'd been drinking a long time before I got there, I guess, and he kept right on. He told me that he hadn't invited anyone else, and that the white orchid, and all that was just his way of getting me up there. I - I tried to talk my way out, and then when that didn't work, I made a break for it. I didn't scream. I was too frightened, I guess. I tried to get away from him, but I couldn't. He seemed to be everywhere. Oh, it was all mixed up like some terrible kind of a dream. Once, I almost got away, when he fell over a chair. But he caught me again, and dragged me back. Then I pushed him as hard as I could, and he fell back through the window. His apartment was on the fourteenth floor.
Barbara Marshall:
Oh, Mary... how awful.
Mary Marshall:
Maybe I shouldn't have told you.
Barbara Marshall:
No, I'm glad you did. But it's wrong. They shouldn't have sent you to prison.
Mary Marshall:
If I'd been lucky enough to get away before he was killed, then there wouldn't have been any crime. But after all, a man was dead. The jury said manslaughter. Guilty. Well, that meant six years.
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