“Naughty, naughty,” Sellers said. “Drop it.”
Belder tried to jerk away. Sellers increased his pressure on the man’s wrist, suddenly whipped around, throwing his elbow over Belder’s arm. His other hand caught the back of Belder’s hand, and pressed it down with the leverage of a locked forearm.
Belder’s fingers loosened. The letter fluttered to the floor. Sellers beat Bertha to it, his shoulders striking against Bertha as they both grabbed for the letter.
“Damn you,” Bertha said.
“Always pick up things for a lady,” Sellers observed, and returned to his chair carrying the letter, the cigar still clamped in his mouth.
“Well,” Bertha said, “go ahead and read it.”
“I’m reading it.”
“Read it out loud.”
Sellers merely grinned. He read the letter with avid interest, folded it and put it in his pocket. “Ain’t we got fun!” he observed.
Bertha said, “Damn you. You can’t bust in my office and pull high-handed stuff like that. You let me see that letter.”