The phone had kept on ringing. I said, “You’d better answer it.”
Bertha picked up the telephone and barked savagely, “Yes. Hello.”
She was handling her own calls now that Elsie Brand wasn’t there on the switchboard, and it griped her.
Bertha listened for a moment, and I saw the expression on her face change. Her eyes got hard. She said, “How much?” and then listened again. She glanced across at me and said, “But I don’t see why — well, if you didn’t have any authority — well, when can — goddammit, don’t keep interrupting me whenever I try to say anything. Now listen, if you didn’t have any authority to complete that deal, how did you — I see. How much? I’ll ring you back sometime this afternoon and let you know — no, this afternoon — no, not by one o’clock. Later — well, by three o’clock — all right, by two, then.”
She hung up the telephone and looked at me with a puzzled expression.
“Something about the case?” I asked.
“No, another thing. A man came in here the other day and said he wanted to talk for three minutes. I agreed to give him exactly three minutes of my time. When he ran over it, I called him. He thought he’d have me so interested I wouldn’t say anything, but I certainly did give him a jolt. Donald Lam, what the hell are you smiling at?”
“Nothing,” I said, and then after a moment asked, “How much do they want to pay?”
“Who?”
“The people who sold you the stock.”