“Facts nothing,” Bertha said. “All I want is an answer that will call this — this estimable young woman a goddamned liar. An answer that will claim that she didn’t get fired because of anything I said, that whatever I said was what you call a privileged communication, and all that stuff.”
“Well,” Drumson said with obvious reluctance, “I guess perhaps, under those circumstances, a charge of twenty-five dollars... But you understand, Mrs. Cool, we wouldn’t accept any responsibility for anything in connection with the case. We wouldn’t want our name to appear on the pleading. It would simply be an answer that we would draw, and you could sign, appearing in propria persona.”
“ What does that mean?” Bertha asked.
“That’s a legal expression that means a person is appearing without a lawyer. That is, that the party filing the pleading is acting as his own lawyer.”
Bertha said, “That’s what I want. Draw up the answer. I’ll sign it myself, and appear myself, representing myself. And I want to get it by Monday morning. I’ll file that and have it off my mind.”
Drumson watched her leave the office. Then with a sigh he pressed the button which summoned his stenographer.
12
All Wool And—
Sergeant Sellers tilted back a somewhat battered, uncushioned swivel chair at Headquarters and grinned across at Bertha Cool. “You’re looking great, Bertha. What’s this about that Dearborne girl filing suit against you?”
Bertha said, “The little—” and stopped.