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Page 178
Her brown shoes were scuffed at the toe, possibly from being pulled to the floor in the Bella Italia. She showed all the signs of having gone through a bad dozen hours. Yet there was that faintly mocking smile. Her version of sexual politics? Morgan wondered.
There was a moment of silence between them.
"What happens now?" she asked.
So we forget about what happened a few moments ago. Yes, Morgan thought. Perhaps that's best. "Nothing, until tonight. The place is crawling with police. Ave will fly us to Washington."
"I see. Am I arrested?"
"For what?"
"For being Anna Neville."
"That's not illegal yet," Morgan said. He went into the kitchen alcove and turned on the gas under a pot of Ave's inky coffee. Anna followed him and leaned against the doorjamb.
"I want to tell you about Pierre Grau," she said.
"All right, I'm listening."
"Pierre Grau wasn't a Communist, if that's what you think."
Morgan brought the pot to a simmer, then poured coffee into a thick mug and handed it to Anna. "I believe younot that it matters."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because it really doesn't matter. He was trying to help himself, and the CCND. That's all right. There's no law against it. What with all the treaties being signed, the antinuke crowd's been running out of causes. You came along just at the right time. Now they've become headliners again. That doesn't make Grau a bad man. Just a dead one," he finished brutally.
She held the cup of bitter coffee without tasting it, looking at him steadily. "You don't like me very much, do you, Morgan?"

 
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