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"Good Morning, Nat. I didn't know you kept a diary," Stacy said. Nat
jumped, not having
noticed that Stacy had come in. "Well, I do," she said, with what Stacy
thought was rather a guilty expression.
She went on: "But
more importantly, how are you feeling? You gave me quite a scare last
night." "I
gave myself a bit of one too. I guess I don't have a head for alcohol, and
will have
to avoid it in future. I'm feeling fine now, though, except for a slight
hangover."
"That's a relief. Do you feel up to breakfast?" Stacy hesitated a moment. She was hungry, but Nat's lack of culinary skill was a bit of a deterrent. She decided on some items that she thought Nat wouldn't be able to spoil. "Perhaps some cornflakes or something like that, if you have it. And toast. And some black coffee would be good." Nat put her diary away in a drawer and went into the kitchen to see to the cereal, toast and coffee. Stacy resisted the temptation to open the drawer and sneak a look at the diary. Even if Nat was keeping something from her, she would feel uncomfortable about acting like that. Fifteen minutes later, as she sat at the kitchen table scraping the worst of the black bits off her burnt toast, she said: "Nat, tonight's the big night, you know. When we find out if I'm simply paranoid or if there's something more." A troubled look came over Nat's face, and for a moment Stacy thought she was going to burst into tears. Then, with a visible effort, she seemed to pull herself together and said:
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9/23/2000 11:53:27 AM
Extending Enabled
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