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Show 69 against it. In a soft voice, she said, "Roger is downstairs." Sharon hopped off the bed-she had forgotten! This was Saturday night! How great it would be to get out of here! To leave this madhouse for a few hours! She threw on her panties and bra, her girdle and nylons, and was fastening her dress before she noticed that Jeanne was crying. Weeping silently, tears rolling down her face. Not even attempting to conceal them. Sharon went to her, laying her hand on her cheek, "What is it?" Jeanne avoided her eyes. "Come on now. Tell me. What is it?" "It was my fault," Jeanne said, still avoiding her eyes, "I should have gotten Marty down sooner. All this would never have happened." Sharon took her in her arms. Her small, unyielding body, she only came to Sharon's chin. "Come on," Sharon said, "it's not your fault." Jeanne looked at her with pleading eyes. She was trembling so tightly that she vibrated, her whole body shaking, "I hate myself." "That's silly." In a round about way, Sharon suddenly realized, she had shouldered Jeanne with responsibility. Like Katie had shouldered her. She suddenly felt pulled in two directions-violently wrenched in opposite directions at the same time. She held Jeanne more tightly. Not comforting her now, but clinging to her. "It's not your fault, Jeanne. You did the best you could. If you feel bad like this, you're going to make me feel bad too." There was a desperate sincerity in her voice. Which |