"Well?" said Annie, to the change which came over Morrell's face when Mrs.
Munger was gone.

"Oh, it's a miserable business! He must go on now to the end of his
debauch. He's got past doing any mischief, I'm thankful to say. But I had
hoped to tide him over a while longer, and now that fool has spoiled
everything. Well!"

Annie's heart warmed to his vexation, and she postponed another emotion.
"Yes, she _is_ a fool. I wish you had qualified the term, doctor."

They looked at each other solemnly, and then laughed. "It won't do for a
physician to swear," said Morrell. "I wish you'd give me a cup of coffee.
I've been up all night."

"With Ralph?"

"With Putney."

"You shall have it instantly; that is, as instantly as Mrs. Bolton can
kindle up a fire and make it." She went out to the kitchen, and gave the
order with an imperiousness which she softened in Dr. Morrell's interest by
explaining rather fully to Mrs. Bolton.

When she came back she wanted to talk seriously, tragically, about Putney.
But the doctor would not. He said that it paid to sit up with Putney, drunk
or sober, and hear him go on. He repeated some things Putney said about Mr.
Peck, about Gerrish, about Mrs. Munger.

"But why did you try to put her off in that way--to make her believe he
wasn't intoxicated?" asked Annie, venting her postponed emotion, which was
of disapproval.