Bertha said, “I don’t suppose it makes any difference to you, but that damn cigar makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Too bad. You haven’t had breakfast?”
“No.”
“Do you go out for breakfast?”
“Not with restaurants serving only one cup of coffee.”
“That’s swell,” Sergeant Sellers announced. “I’ll have a cup of coffee with you.” Bertha’s eyes snapped cold fire.
“Hoarding, eh?” Sergeant Sellers observed.
“Hoarding nothing,” Bertha said. “I’m using coffee I bought last September. You can’t say that’s hoarding.”
“Why not?”
“Because there wasn’t any shortage in September.”