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lief came only from a kind of stupefied resistance to further change. Anna Neville was very close to that stage, and he could not allow it. |
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He had driven all the way from North Beach with half of his attention fixed on the rearview mirror. One didn't roll a grenade into a deserted restaurant to make a kill, then simply walk away when the attempt failed. Whoever they were, they knew when the grenade exploded in the street that they would have to try again. He said, "All right?" |
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"I'm still here, Morgan." It was the first time she had addressed him by name. |
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"That was brave," she said in a thin voice, then cleared her throat. "What you did at the restaurant." She sat up. |
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"It was goddamn stupid, but there wasn't much choice," he said. He was still worried about her. The effects of her last yearand her last twenty-four hoursshowed in her face. What ill fortune had taken her and her husband to Hudson Bay last December, Morgan wondered. Who ever knew why such things happened? Morgan believed in Fate as a prime mover in human affairs. Third world people knew. They spoke of Kismet, Lot, Portion, Destiny. Warriors and beggars tended to invoke the same gods and sibyls. |
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"Who are they, Morgan?" Anna asked. "Do you know?" |
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"You're not going to call the police?" she asked. |
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"They'll be investigating it on their own. We haven't time to get involved. It will only hold us up." |
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"What's at Half Moon Bay?" |
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"An old associate with an airplane. I need to get you back to Washington." |
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"I don't want to go back to Washington." |
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A mist-shrouded green traffic light marked the transition from a broad expanse of pavement to divided road. The park was left behind. Morgan drove at a steady speed. On their |
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