ray? what was that? you kidding? i don't wanna leave all this, i just wanna leave marty. drive me to a motel? where. where you going? don't go to the bar, ray. i know him, that ain't a good idea. hello? marty? what? i don't know, he didn't say anything. you got a girl--am i screwing something up by being here? i can find a place tomorrow, then i'll be outta your hair. well. the couch would be all right. well. i'm not gonna put you out of your bed. well, i'd be okay in here-- opal-- she has backed away from marty and now stands on the lawn, breathing heavily. she looks from ray to marty. still panting. up the street we can hear marty's car alternately racing and stopping, shifting in and out of gear. his engine rumble starts to grow louder again. are you sure this is. are you sure this apartment is vacant?. mrs. esteves? looks like the state legislature is out of session. listen meurice, you're gonna help me with a problem. you're gonna keep an eye on marty and ray, make sure nothing happens. thanks, meurice. he's in the house. i could've sworn i heard something. i knew it. 'cause we wouldn't have heard anything if it was him. he's real careful. fact is, he's anal. yeah, he told me once himself. he said to me. "in here, abby. in here. i'm anal." i couldn't believe it either. me on the other hand, i got lots of personality. marty always said i had too much. 'course he was never big on personality. he sent me to a psychiatrist to see if he could calm me down some. psychiatrist said i was the healthiest person he'd ever met, so marty fired him. well, i didn't see him anymore, i'll tell you that much. i said, marty, how come you're anal and i gotta go to the psychiatrist? nothing. he's like you, he doesn't say much. except when he doesn't say things they're usually nasty. when you don't they're usually nice. huh? oh, yeah, i guess. mm-hmm. hello? ray?. what time is it? you all right? okay, see ya. thanks, ray. ray? what? you're bad too. emerging from the bathroom. her voice has a flat echo in the bare apartment. why didn't you get into bed? yeah. you called me this morning. what do you mean? what happened?--was meurice there? well. what happened? ray-- what the hell happened, ray? i don't know what you're talking about. i. i mean what're you talking about, ray? i haven't done anything funny. ray, i mean you ain't even acting like yourself. first you call me at five in the a.m. saying all kinds of nice things over the telephone and then you come charging in here scaring me half to death without even telling me what it is i'm supposed to be scared of. i gotta tell you it's extremely rattling. how can i be lying if i don't even know-- i mean if you and him had a fight or something, i don't care, as long as you. what. welp, that was him. marty. what's going on with you two? watching. we hear the door open. marty? staring down at the floor. she rises and looks at the desk. as she rises we hear glass under her feet. ray? i. i love you too. bolts upright in bead with a muffled groan. sweat pours down her face. she brushes a drop of sweat from her eye and looks around. ray. where is everything? you leaving? but first i gotta know what happened. you broke into the bar. you wanted to get your money. you and marty had a fight. something happened. i don't know, wasn't it you? maybe a burglar broke in, and you found-- i. i'm sorry, meurice. i gotta talk to you. can i come in? no, i-- something happened with marty and ray-- no meurice, it's worse than that. something really happened, i think marty's dead-- sort of. meurice-- meurice, you gotta help me. ray. so? so what'll they see? --if you do anything the neighbors'll hear. i love you too. scrambles into a corner at the window end of the room. the only sound is her heavy breathing. she looks over at ray, then up at the bulb on the ceiling. ray-- no no--you don't understand-- i ain't afraid of you, marty.