Bertha said, “The partnership’s still alive. They’ll claim that I was acting for myself and also for and on behalf of the partnership. I can stall the case off on account of Donald being in the service. No... Damned if I will. I’ll appear for myself and the partnership. Donald isn’t going to have this to worry about. It’ll all be over before he knows anything about it.”
Bertha glanced at her wrist-watch. “I’m going to see Everett Belder and give him something to think about. I’ll damn soon find out what’s behind this. He can’t use me as a stalking-horse and get away with it. That’s what comes of trying to lead the simple life. I pick up what I think is an easy case, try to let go of it when it gets tough, and get sued for a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of damages.”
“ Did you,” Elsie asked as Bertha Cool started for the door, “call her a twerp?”
Bertha Cool jerked the door open, turned and said, “You’re goddamned right I called her a twerp,” and pounded her way indignantly down the corridor, managing to find a vacant taxi in front of the building.
“Rockaway Building,” she said as she hauled herself into the cab, “and make it snappy.”
Bertha Cool found a new secretary in the office of Everett G. Belder, a tall, thin woman somewhere in the forties, with a thin face, muddy complexion, a pointed chin, prominent high-bridged nose, and an austere manner. “Good morning.”
“Mr. Belder in?”
“Who is calling, please.” The words were articulated with conscious care, making the simple request seem long and formal.
“Bertha Cool.”
“Do you have a card, Miss Cool?”