“Your cut?”
“Fifty per cent.”
“Leaving me twenty-five hundred net?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not interested.”
Bertha Cool heaved herself up out of the chair. “You’ve got my card,” she said. “Any time you change your mind, ring me up.”
Nunnely said, “Wait a moment, Mrs. Cool. I should like to talk with you.”
Bertha waded on past the deep-carpeted luxury of the office to the door, turned in the doorway and delivered her parting shot. “I’ve said all I have to say. You could have said either of two things. You said no. There’s nothing more to talk about. If you change your mind and want to say yes, call me.”
“I want to ask one question, Mrs. Cool. Did Mr. Belder send you to me? Are you representing him?”
“He wants to ask one question of twenty-five hundred bucks, cash!” Bertha said, and slammed the door behind her.