“How did you happen to buy it, then?”
“Because I knew there would be a shortage.”
“And you don’t think that’s hoarding?”
“No. That’s simply using my brain.”
“I take it you’ve got plenty.” Sergeant Sellers said. Bertha Cool refused to commit herself.
“Okay, make it good and black, and give me a big cup.”
Bertha Cool flounced indignantly into her dressing-room, dressed hurriedly, returned to make up the wall bed and wheel it out of the way. Then she went out into the kitchenette, put on a big pot of coffee, and said to Sergeant Sellers, “I suppose you’ll insist on having an egg, too?”
“That’s right, two.”
“Damn it, I said t-o-o.”
“I know. I said t-w-o.”