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. Today. Now. Your past is your business."
She looked at me sadly. "Beloved, you don't believe that I am Hazel Stone.
Do you?"
Time to lie! But a lie is no good if it's not believed (unless it is told
to be disbelieved, which could not apply here). Time to fan-dance instead.
"Sweetheart, I've been trying to tell you that it does not matter to me whether
or not you are Hazel Stone. Or Sadie Lipschitz. Or Pocahontas. You are my
beloved wife. Let's not cloud that golden fact with irrelevancies."
"Richard, Richard! Listen to me. Let me talk." She sighed. "Or else."
"'Or else'?"
"You know what 'Or else' means; you used it on me. If you won't listen,
then I must go back and report that I have failed."
"Go back where? Report to whom? Failed in what?"
"If you won't listen, it doesn't matter."
"You told me not to let you leave!"
"I won't be leaving you; I'll just be running a quick errand, then back
home to you. Or you're welcome to come with me- oh, I wish you would! But I must
report my failure and resign my commission... then I'll be free to go with you
to the ends of the universe. But I must resign, not simply desert. You are a
soldier; you understand that."
"You are a soldier?"
"Not exactly. An agent."
"Uh... agente provocateuse?"
"Uh, close." She smiled wryly. "Agente amoureuse perhaps. Although I wasn't
told to fall in love with you
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