“Water women,” Vasyl said. “They have them here too.” “They have them everywhere,” Maryse said absently, looking for others. “There’s never a shortage of unlucky girls who end up in the water.” “What a grim thing.” “We are in a grim business, darling.” “We could go into vaudeville, you know. I can dance. Perhaps you can sing?” “I absolutely cannot. I’d rather puke up rocks.” Vasyl laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “How lucky we are, then, to know what the dead say.” They didn’t, of course they didn’t, but it was a living, and thus better than a dying, as Vasyl would say when he
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