The man’s face goes flush and he stiffens, but then he bows again, turns and goes out. Amy plucks a tissue from the pastel box on the desk, gently draws Laurena’s hands down, and dabs carefully at her eyes. Her face is red and shiny and she’s breathing fitfully, struggling to look composed."He just ... just wanted the Materials Manual," she says in a pinched voice."I don’t know, know why ... he got so nasty. I—I guess somebody borrowed it."