| As the funeral rolled away, Mildred spoke. "First funeral we've seen since they arrived," Mildred snipped. |
| "Yes," Merline said. |
| "Those Greeks, Germans, or whatever, certainly are shrewd ones," Mildred said, cocking her head to one side, which made her pointy nose seem even sharper. |
| "Certainly are," Merline agreed. "Funeral business is very lucrative." |
| "Yes, there's a lesson in economics. No matter what the state of the economy, people never stop dying. They'll make a killing." |
| "True, Mildred." |
| "Yet -," she stopped abruptly to gather her thoughts. |
| "Yes?" Merline prodded. |
| "How many funerals can they expect to attend to in a town like this?" |
| "You have a point there," Merline said, thoughtfully. |
| "Makes a person wonder why they would move here." |
| Merline stared ahead thoughtfully. "I see what you mean. There is a whole family of them to support." |
| "I hear that girl does the actual work." |
| "Really? You mean she does the whole thing?" |
| Mildred nodded, knowingly. "Yes, she's the mortician." |
| "That's no work for a young girl like that to do." |
| "You know how young women are today. They just do it to say that they can." |
| Merline nodded with an expression of pity. |
| "Well, if you ask me," Mildred said, with finality, "there's something odd about the whole brood of them. It wouldn't suprise me a bit if we found out someday that they killed that poor man just to get the business." |
| "What a horrible thought!" Merline said, with delight. |
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