“You mean you aren’t going to?”
“That’s right.”
She slammed the receiver back into its cradle so hard that I looked for the instrument to fly to pieces. “Of all the damned exasperating bastards! Of all the ill-mannered, impudent—” Her voice rose almost to a scream, then choked in her throat.
“May as well sit down. Bertha.”
She stood looking down at me for a moment, then said abruptly, “Now listen, lover, don’t be like that. Bertha gets excited, but it’s because she’s been worried about you. Bertha thought something had happened and someone had put a bullet in you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry! You never even bothered to send me a wire. You — now listen, lover, Bertha doesn’t like to get like this. You’ve got me terribly nervous.”
“Sit down and you’ll get over being so nervous.”
She walked over to the chair and sat down.
“Help yourself to a cigarette,” I said. “It will steady your nerves.”