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Page 49
speak and she continued, "You see, I like her, and she's been very kind to me."
Peter, who had turned away from her suddenly and begun to pace, reversed, jogged a table, and knocked the book Linda had been reading to the floor. Linda thanked God there was no fragile lamp on the table, and her lips twitched again. The first time she had come into the room, she had wondered why the lamps were all on furniture backed against the walls, particularly when there were faint marks indicating that they had originally stood in more central locations. Now she knew why. Peter, however, paid no attention to the fallen book. His face was intent.
"My aunt has a very bad heart," he said abruptly, as if he had been trying to think of a tactful way to exaplain and couldn't find one. "Frankly, the woman I wanted her to have as a companion was a trained nurse. Do you know anything about nursing?"
"Nothing at all," Linda replied slowly.
It was true enough, but Linda did know something about heart disease. One friend's mother had a very bad heart, and Linda knew Mrs. Bates did not show the typical symptoms. Her legs were not swollen; she had no trouble breathing; her lips seemed healthily pink. It was true she tired easily, but she was over 70 years old. Most elderly people tired easily.
Perhaps Peter Tattersall saw the doubt on Linda's face. "She looks all right," he admitted, "but she had a very bad heart attack right after

 
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