Pauline began to give me double-talk and let her housecoat slip open. Finally she dimpled at me and said, 'Donald, I'm sorry I put on the act I did. But, well, you're a man and I like men'.
That's when Bertha got out of her chair and went up to Pauline. 'You're a tart and you like money. In about fifteen minutes you're going to be talking to the cops. So start telling the truth.' And with that Bertha threw her half across the room.
'Come on, dearie,' Bertha said, 'get rough. I just love to have the party get rough.'