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Show 254 I wouldn't be old Roger Green. I'd be somebody new. Different. You'd like me better then." "No, I wouldn't." "Yes," he said flatly, "you would." Why did he want to do this to her? This was not like him at all. They came to a red light, the traffic stacking up. Around her were anonymous cars, with indistinct forms in them. What did he want from her? Why was he suddenly like this? "Well, it's true," he said cruelly, "isn't it." "Maybe," she said weakly, "I wouldn't like you as well. Maybe I wouldn't like you at all." He looked over at her. His brown eyes large in the dash lights -he hadn't expected her to say that-he laughed suddenly, his large booming laugh. And she was relieved, to hear him sound like this, like his old self. No, he had not expected that. Or had he? Maybe that was just what he needed to hear? They pulled away from the light, moving with the traffic. He was more relaxed behind the wheel now. They drove on, through one light, and then another. And then they caught a red one. "You didn't like my little game," he said. "No, I didn't." There was a touch of anger in her voice. "I'm kind of a bother sometimes," he said, "aren't I." "Yes," she said. She thought about it for a moment. He was his old self now. She wanted him that way, for now. Later, she would think about this new side to him. It had surprised her; she had not |