“Yes.”
“May I come in?”
“Come right ahead.”
Josephine Dell was dressed in a lounging robe, pyjamas, and slippers. The interior of the modest apartment indicated she had been confined to her room for some time. There was a litter of newspapers and magazines. The ash tray was well filled, and there was an odour of stale cigarette smoke dinging to the apartment.
“Sit down,” the young woman said. “Tomorrow I get my release.”
“You’ve been laid up?” Bertha asked.
“Under observation,” Josephine Dell said, and laughed. “Misfortunes never come singly.”
Bertha Cool adjusted herself comfortably in the chair. “There’s been something else besides your automobile accident?” she asked.
“Of course. Didn’t you know?”
“No.”