`Why do you want the spotlight?' Marya, smiling and tense, asked Linda.
`I enjoy lying,' Linda answered. `And if I can't talk, I can't lie.'
'Ah come on,' said the magazine editor. `What's so much about lying?'
'What's so much fun about pretending to be honest?' she replied.
'We're not aware that we're pretending, Linda,' Scott said.
`Maybe that's why you're all tense,' Linda countered.
Since Linda was more relaxed at this point than either Marya or Scott, it was one-upmanship parfait, and several
people smiled.
`Lies are a way of covering up,' Marya said.
`Being honest and truthful the way we do here is like cheap striptease, a lot of motion to reveal that there are boobs
and pricks and asses in the world, something we all knew in the first place.'
`Aren't boobs and pricks beautiful, Linda?' asked Marya in her softest and most sincere voice.
`Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Depends on which illusion I feel like supporting.'
`Our genitalia are always beautiful,' Marya said.
`You obviously haven't looked lately,' Linda answered, yawning.
`I doubt you've ever really faced your sexual shame and guilt,' Marya said.
`I have and they bore me,' replied Linda, smothering another yawn.
`Boredom is-'
`Are your breasts and cunt beautiful?'
Linda asked Marya abruptly.
`Yes, and so are yours.'
'Then show us your beautiful genitalia.'
No one was particularly bored now. Marya sat with her back to the fire and a fixed smile on her face, staring vaguely
at Linda. Scott cleared his throat noisily and leaned forward to the rescue.
`This isn't a beauty contest, Linda,' he said. `You're obviously trying -' `Marya has a beautiful cunt. She's not ashamed of it. We're not supposed to be ashamed of it. Let's see it.'
'I don't think this is an appropriate occasion,' Marya said. She wasn't smiling.
`A thing of beauty is a joy forever,' Linda replied. `Don't deny us.'
`I partly feel that my role as leader-'
`Partly!' Linda said, waking up. `Partly? You mean in fact that feelings and truth can be broken into parts?'
Linda began taking off her blouse.
`I don't wish to cause embarrassment to anyone here,' Marya said. `Our purpose is to get at real attitudes, real feelings,
to . . . ah, to explore . . . ah . . ' But no one was paying much attention, since Linda, with serene, concentration, had
now removed her bra and her skirt and her panties and was sitting nude, legs apart, with her back to the wall. When
she finished she had to smother another yawn. The firelight made a decidedly splendid effect on her white skin. For a
while there was silence.
'Are you embarrassed, Linda?' Marya asked quietly, her face again frozen in a smile.
`Linda sat silently with her back to the wall, looking at the rug between her legs. Tears began to form in her eyes. She
suddenly drew up her knees, put her face into her hands and sobbed.
`Oh yes, yes,' she said. `I'm ashamed I'm ashamed!' She was crying.
No one spoke or moved.
`You needn't feel that way,' Marya said, getting on her knees and beginning to crawl toward Linda.
`My body is ugly ugly ugly,' Linda sobbed. `I can't stand it.'
`I don't think it's ugly,' said Mr. Hopper, pushing his peanuts away from him off to the side.
`It's not ugly, Linda,' Marya said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
`It is. It is. I'm a slut.'
`Don't be silly. You can't really feel that.'
`I can't?'
Linda asked, raising her head with a startled expression.
`Your body is beautiful,' Marya added.