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He laughed. "I guess it's true. But don't change the subject." He leaned toward her over the table, his gray eyes dark with concern. Touching her chin with his fingertip, he asked, "What's wrong?" |
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His tenderness was almost too much to bear. She sighed. Maybe he was right. He had accepted all the rest; perhaps now he would believe in her unfocused premonition. "Remember I told you I've felt afraid of something ever since arriving in L.A.?" |
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He nodded. "And since then you've saved me from the elevator and a bee sting, and you nearly roasted to death yourself. I'd say any feeling you've had of danger was justified." |
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"Mike, it's getting worse. Something terrible is going to happen." |
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"Well, as soon as you figure out what, sweetheart, tell me what to avoid. But right now I've got to get to work. Are you coming with me?" |
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Late that afternoon he called her into his office. "I've got to work late," he said. "No sense your waiting. The phone system's out; as part of my economy drive, we're putting in a cheaper one, and I'm going to take advantage of the peace and quiet. I've called Hannah to pick you up; she'll take you to a movie." |
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The idea of seeing on a huge screen one of those wonderful moving pictures she had seen on TV certainly intrigued her. Still, with her fear for him so intense . . . "You come too, Mike." |
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