“After all, Mrs. Cool,” Dolly Cornish said, “men are only human, you know. We have to put up with their weaknesses.”
Bertha turned in the doorway, surveyed Dolly Cornish appraisingly. “You do the tragic, sensitive-soul-all-bruised-to-hell act very nicely, dearie. I don’t mind if it’s just practice, but I’d be sore as hell if you really thought I was falling for it.”
20
Bertha in a Bind
Everett Belder was waiting in the office when Bertha got back. He jumped up as she opened the door from the corridor. He was talking before Bertha Cool had got her eyes into hard focus on him. “Mrs. Cool, I want to apologize. I want to make you the most abject apology I know how to make.”
Bertha stood just inside the doorway, her eyes impaling him with a wordless accusation.
“I just didn’t know when I had good service,” Belder rushed on. “Now I’m in the most terrible predicament. Mrs. Cool, I want to talk with you.”
Bertha hesitated.
Belder, good salesman that he was, launched into the only argument which could possibly move her. “I don’t care what I have to pay,” he said. “I’ll pay anything.”
Bertha started for the door of the inner office, “Come in.”