“If hundreds of ’em fell dead and was dragged out,” he said, “we’d never know the difference, would we?”
Lory’s look was the speculative look which always embarrassed him.
“If two of ’em was us, we would,” she said.
The Inger laughed boisterously.
“You bet,—then!” he agreed. “Lord, ain’t it grand that the rest of ’em could go, for all we care!”
She pondered it.
“What if they was a big fire,” she said, “like the Hess House?”
The Hess House, an unsavory place of Inch, had burned the year before, and with it five nameless women.
“Oh gosh,” said the Inger, “you could hand ’em out like fish off the coals, and save ’em, alive and kicking, and cord ’em up somewheres, and rip back for more.”