“Well?”
Raven addresses the silent women. “One of you must fancy it. Got
to be better than going back to some hovel somewhere and living up to
your armpits in muck?”
“What
are you doing?” Robert asks him.
“Seeing
if I can drum up a volunteer,” is Raven's reply, “Better for
everyone if the girl wants to do it.”
“But
they've got to be the right shape and size,” Robert says, nodding
at his wife, “The hair could match as well.”
“Then
let's hope we get a good one,” Raven turns back to the cages, “Any
takers? Who wants to live in pampered luxury for the rest of their
lives?”
“I could
give it a go,” says a voice at the back.
“And
me,” says another.
“It
should be me,” a third girl insists, then another, and another
until there are twelve all eager to take on the role.
“Let's
have you in a line then,” Raven commands them, “See what we've
got to work with.”
