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back from his teeth. The man stepped back, and Peter shook his head, his expression returning to normal. "Niente," he said. "Perdone." His hand brought out his wallet, and he slipped a bill into the man's hand. "This was a mistake," he said to Linda. "Can we talk in the car?" |
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"All right," she agreed, sliding out of the booth, "but I hope you don't plan to bellow at me with the windows closed. My head will ring for a week." |
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"No," Peter said, taking her elbow, "I don't plan to bellow at you." |
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There was such an odd sound in his voice that Linda's head lifted sharply, but he had turned toward the car as they stepped out the door and all she could see was the side of his face. The lights around the outdoor tables picked out the quiver of a small muscle in the cheek near his mouth. That made her suspect he was amused, but he had opened the car door and gestured for her to get in before she could ask and she thought better of posing the question as they drove away. |
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They did not drive far; perhaps four kilometers down the road Peter turned into a rough track and bumped about fifty feet off the road. He doused the brights, turned off the engine and turned to face her, his mouth a hard gash and his eyes only black hollows in the faint light from the dashboard. As he moved out from under the steering wheel toward her, Linda suddenly felt frightened, but the arm he stretched out went gently around her shoulders and when he bent |
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