Bertha went into her private office and settled down to% a cigarette in her long, carved ivory holder. When the buzzer sounded, she picked up the receiver, said, “Hello,” and heard Mrs. Cranning’s voice saying, “Hello, Mrs. Cool.”
Bertha instantly radiated cordiality. “How do you do, Mrs. Cranning? I’m very sorry I bothered you, but I wanted to get in touch with Josephine Dell right away. I thought she might be out there. I hope I haven’t bothered you.”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Cranning said with equal cordiality. “She was here until about half an hour ago, then a man rang up and asked her to meet him. I didn’t get all that it was, but it was something very important about an automobile accident.”
“A man?” Bertha Cool asked.
“Yes.”
Bertha Cool was frowning. “You didn’t catch the name, did you?”
“Yes, I did, but I’ve forgotten it. I remember she wrote it down. Wait a minute— Eva, what was that name, the one who called Josephine Dell? How is that? Okay, thanks. Mrs. Cool wanted to know.”
Mrs. Cranning said into the telephone, “I have that name for you, Mrs. Cool. It was Mr. Jerry Bollman. She went somewhere to meet him.”
Bertha said, “Thank you,” hung up the telephone, and was halfway through the outer office before she realized the futility of her errand.
“What’s the matter?” Elsie Brand asked.