“She isn’t in yet.”
The man looked at his wrist watch as though not so much interested in verifying the time for himself as in conveying a subtle rebuke to Bertha Cool’s tardiness. “It’s nine-fifteen,” he said.
“Sometimes she doesn’t get in before ten or ten-thirty,” Elsie Brand told him.
“Indeed?”
As no reply was made to that comment, the man went on, “I’m from the Intermutual Indemnity Company. Mrs. Cool is, I believe, the one who placed the ad in the paper asking for information about witnesses to a certain automobile accident.”
Elsie met his eyes and said, “I couldn’t tell you.”
“You mean you don’t know?” he asked in well-bred surprise.
“I mean, I couldn’t tell you. I’m here to do the typing. Mrs. Cool has charge of the department that gives out information. I—”
The door pushed open.
Bertha Cool, barging into the room, said, “Did you hear anything from Donald, Elsie?” before her eyes had become sufficiently focused on the interior of the office to see the visitor.