“I went over and saw her,” I said.
Bertha Cool stared at me. “Well, can me for a sardine!”
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“That girl did nothing while you were gone but keep Elsie Brand busy answering the telephone. She’d ring up four or five times a day to ask if we’d heard anything from you, when we expected you back, and if we thought you were all right. I’d have bet my diamonds that the first night you were back she’d make you trot her out to dinner and a movie and hold her hand during the performance.”
I said hotly, “Marian’s a nice girl.”
“Sure, she’s a nice girl,” Bertha Cool said, “but that doesn’t keep her from having her head completely turned as far as you’re concerned.”
“Bunk! She’s fascinated by that deputy district attorney.”
Bertha Cool snorted and said, “Who was telling you?”
“You were.”
“Well, don’t fall for that line of hooey. I was just throwing a scare into you. She’s stuck on you — nuts over you.”