“A movie?”
I nodded.
Bertha Cool’s little glittering eyes surveyed me thoughtfully. “How’s the job?” she asked.
“Still going.”
“You’ve managed to keep her from saying anything?”
I nodded, and she asked, “How did you do it?”
“Just kidding her along,” I said. “I think she likes to have me around.”
Bertha Cool sighed. “Donald, you have the damnedest way with women. What do you do to make them fall for you?”
“Nothing,” I said.
She looked me over again and said, “It may be at that. All the competition is trying to appear big and masculine, and you sit back as though you weren’t interested... Sometimes I think you bring out the mother complex in us.”