Belder moved uneasily in the chair.
“Mrs. Cool, I’m a sales engineer. I’ve been under a lot of expense, and—”
“What’s a sales engineer?” Bertha interrupted.
He smiled then. “In my case, just a good salesman with a lot of nerve, and enough dough to see him through until pay-day without asking for an advance.”
“I get you. What’s your trouble?”
Belder became uneasy once more. “Mrs. Cool, I’m in the very devil of a predicament. I don’t know what to do, where to turn. Every move I make seems blocked. I’ve racked my brain over—”
“Don’t get steamed up about it,” Bertha said reassuringly. “Lots of people who come in here are like that. Go ahead, open up. Get it off your chest.”
“Mrs. Cool, do you ever do any collection work?”
“What sort of collections?”
“Bad bills — judgments — things like that?”