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Page 118
shirts Mike called T-shirts. On some women, the tightness of such clinging material seemed shameless. Abby touched the soft pastel folds at her side. A few women wore skirts, although hardly any of lengths that matched hers; still, there were enough to allow her to hope she did not appear entirely inappropriate to the people in this time.
She stared as they passed stores with windows that had few, but lovely, goods displayed in them. Mike said, ''This is Rodeo Drive. You've heard of it, of course."
"Of course," Abby lied, not looking at him.
"It's all trueyou can find designer clothes, furniture, even food here, with enormous price tags to match."
Mike hadn't even blinked at the cost of articles in Barstow. For him to comment on these, they must be high indeed!
The Bronco stopped often at street corners. Abby noticed that here, on city avenues, Mike always halted when a red light appeared on a contraption hanging over the road and started when the light was replaced by a green one. She did not understand what the yellow light meant; he alternately slowed, stopped, or raced forward.
Their lack of speed after the previous quickness of this car created a tight ball of tension inside Abby. She reached nervously, as she often did, for the ribbons of her bonnetwhich now, of course, was missing. She dropped her hands back to her lap.
She found it impossible to ignore her uneasi-

 
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