“No-the first available plane. That was because they’re so crowded these days.”
I said, “When he comes, I’ll do the talking.”
Bertha reached a sudden decision. “You’re damn right you’re going to do all the talking. Bertha is bundling herself into an airplane and flying to Los Angeles. In case Mr. Hale asks questions, it’s because Bertha has some war work which demanded her presence. You aren’t going to tell him anything about having gone down there this morning and about what happened, are you?”
“No.”
“That is all I wanted to know,” she said.
“Want me to go out to the airport with you to see you off?”
“I do not. You’re poison. You’re the smarty pants that held out on Hale just because you thought Hale was holding out on you. It’s your party. You sent out the engraved invitations, and now you can seat the guests as they come in. Bertha is going over and get some nice pecan waffles, and then be on her way.”
“I want a key to the apartment,” I said, “and—”
“It’ll be in the door. I’ll pack my bag and leave my key in the door. Good-by.”
She strode to the door, and I watched her get into a taxicab. She didn’t even look back.