Laurel rose and carried it to the middle of the room and set it on the table. She pointed. “Look. Look where the surface is splintered—look at those gouges. You might have gone at it with an icepick.” “Is that a crime?” “All scored and grimy! Or you tried driving nails in it.” “I didn’t do anything but crack last year’s walnuts on it. With the hammer.” “And cigarette burns—” “Who wants an everlasting breadboard? It’s the last thing on earth anybody needs!”
