“Exactly,” O’Connor said. “A good analogy, Mr. Malone.”
Malone hated himself for it, but he felt pleased when O’Connor praised him. “Well,” he said, “that winds up Cartier Taylor’s theory pretty thoroughly.”
“I should think so,” O’Connor said. “I am surprised, Mr. Malone, that you would put any credence whatever in that man’s theories. His factual data, I will admit, is fairly reliable. But his theories are— well, they are hardly worth the time it takes to read them.”
“I see,” Malone said. “It did seem like a good answer, though.”
“It undoubtedly is a good one,” O’Connor said. “It is clever and has the advantage of being simple. It is contradicted, Mr. Malone, only by the facts.”
“Sure,” Malone said sadly. “But—hey. Wait a minute.”
“Yes?” O’Connor said.
“One person couldn’t do this alone, at least, not very often and not without serious harm to himself. Right?”
“That is what I said,” O’Connor agreed. “Yes, Mr. Malone.”
“But how about several people?” Malone said. “I mean, well, let’s look at that blood bank again. You need three quarts of blood. But one person doesn’t have to give it. Suppose twelve people gave half a pint each. Suppose twenty-four people gave a quarter of a pint each. Suppose—”