“But why all the interest in parachutes?”
“My roommate is going to be a parachute rigger.”
“I hope she’s a careful sort of lady. I saw a boy drop two thousand feet straight down. His rigger had failed him.”
“I’ll rig my own.” Sally’s lips were a straight line.
“Why should you go in for parachutes? But then—oh, yes—you go in for all sorts of falling.” He laughed.
“No,” she said, “I don’t. I get dizzy. But I promised Barbara that I’d go down with her it they asked her to try parachuting.”
“You did! That takes courage!”
“Where’s the war job that doesn’t?”
“Oh, it’s not so bad.” He blew an imaginary smoke ring. “You just sit on the edge of a hole until they give you the word. Then you look up, slide through the hole, and down you go. When the parachute is open it is really swell, like dreams we have of flying just with our hands. When you land you curl up like a sleepy kitten, roll on the ground, then get up.”
“You make it sound so nice!”