Bertha gave a few last touches to the ensemble, took Kosling’s arm, and said, “Now, I want you to lean on me. Don’t act as though I was giving you guidance. Let it look as though I was giving you support. A blind person gets guidance. A person who is weak on his legs gets support. Do you understand what I mean?”
“I think so. Like this?”
“No,” Bertha said, “you’re just bearing down. Lean over a little bit to one side. That’s it. All right now, here we go.”
Bertha guided Kosling through the door, locked it, and said, “Because my room’s on the third floor, we’ve got to make the stairs. Think you can do it all right?”
“Why, of course.”
“The thing you’ve got to watch,” Bertha said, “is that skirt. I’ve got the hem fixed so it’s just about dragging the ground. I don’t want people to see your shoes and the bottom of your pants.”
“I thought you rolled my pants up.”
“I did, but I left the skirt plenty long. Come on now, watch the stairs.”
They negotiated the stairs safely. Bertha walked down the corridor to the elevator, rang the bell, and when the hotel’s single elevator eventually came rattling up, said, “Now be careful, Mother. Watch your step getting in the elevator.”
They got in without mishap except that Kosling, forgetting the wide brim on the woman’s hat he was wearing, all but crushed it against the back of the elevator.