Fosdick elevated the brief-case to his lap, opened it, took out a file of papers, and let Bertha Cool see varying expressions on his face as his well-manicured fingers turned over the leaves; the raised eyebrow of interest, the little moue of skeptical surprise, the sympathetic frown of one who is horrified at physical suffering.
Bertha said impatiently, “Okay, go ahead and say it.”
Fosdick looked up. “Mrs. Cool,” he said, “if you secure a proper release, duly signed by the person injured, the insurance company would be willing to pay one thousand dollars cold — hard — cash.”
“You’re so good to me,” Bertha murmured sarcastically.
“Of course,” Fosdick went on tentatively, “it appears that there were no serious injuries. It is further apparent that the person you represent must have been crossing the street without proper regard for the conditions of traffic. It is indeed quite possible that she was crossing against a red light. In court, a defence of contributory negligence would be raised, and, quite probably, sustained. However, it is always the policy of the Intermutual Indemnity Company to give the benefit of the doubt to any person who has actually been struck by a car operated by one of our insured up to and until the time such person files suit. After suit is filed, we are as adamant. We seldom lose a lawsuit. Once in court, we ask no quarter, and we give none. Under those circumstances, Mrs. Cool, regardless of the fact that the damage seems to have been so purely nominal, the insurance company will make you that as an offer — one thousand dollars in cold, hard cash.”
Fosdick closed the file of papers, carefully replaced it in the brief-case, snapped the catch on the brief-case, inserted the leather straps through the brass buckles, adjusting them carefully into position, and got to his feet. His manner was that of one who has made a very handsome gesture indeed and expects to be applauded.
Bertha Cool said, “A thousand dollars is nothing for what this woman suffered.”
“A thousand dollars,” Fosdick proclaimed, “is a very generous compromise offer.”
He bowed to Bertha Cool, opened the door, started across the outer office, paused halfway to the door, and said, “It is not only our first offer but our last. The Intermutual Indemnity Company will not increase it by one red cent.”
Bertha’s irritation snapped the bonds of her self-restraint. She shouted at him, “All right, make any offer you damn please — but you don’t need to be so God-damned erudite about it!”