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Show 55 the matter with you, anyway?" "Well, you sure came out of this in good shape." "I said I was sorry." "You bet." "Look. I said I was sorry. And I am. I'm sorry about the toothache. I'm not sorry that you're not going to move. And I won't pretend that I am. Okay?" She turned her head away. What he said was true: it was not his fault. Why was she so helpless against him? "Well, thank god it's over now," he said, his eyes searching out her own, "I didn't mean to be so abrupt. I really am sorry about the toothache, you know." He was; she knew that he was. "Let's talk about something else. Okay?" What could she gain by arguing? Besides, she had already vented the hot core of her anger: slowly, she nodded her head in agreement. She had half an hour left, before going back to the house to prepare dinner. She might as well try to enjoy it. But it was difficult to begin, to strike the right note. They were both visibly relieved when the waitress came by with the coffee to refill their cups. She was not the same waitress, Sharon noticed, as last Sunday. How long age last Sunday seemed! How changed she felt since then. She almost seemed like a different person to herself. Robbie resettled himself in the seat. He was more relaxed now. But as always, he held himself well, with good posture, without any |