.”That night, back in the Bighorn, Rebecca put down her quilting and looked up at me, “Trying to get rid of me, Mr. Murdock?”I wasn’t and she ...new it. But now I was feeling some of Rebecca’s guilt about Rosie. Maybe even a little about Chet.Now that she was whore-managing, Rebecca became even closer with the girls. Was growing even more fond of them.“They each got a story, Flint, but it’s mostly just the same story.”“Hmm.”“Could be me in there, lying on my back for Mrs. Chambers. Wasn’t for. Scarcity determines value. If that were true, it wouldmean... No, time was different. No matter how much people imagined theyhad, they craved more. It was the one thing money couldn't buy and powercouldn't seize.Or rather, they pined for more until they grew old and frail. As theiryouth depleted and their faculties failed, it was understandable thatthe longing for more time ebbed. And that was the crux. How much moretime would they desire if not for the specters of frailty, decay. More

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