"No, I don't. I want
sleep. I came home early to try and get a little, but--"
"You ain't had none to speak of for 'most a week." Moses still
lingered. "I wish you'd let General come in my room to-night. You
can't stand seein' him suffer, and you'll be sick yourself if you
keep a-waitin' on him all night. Can't I get you a little Scotch,
sir, or a hot whiskey punch? I got the water waitin'. They say now
whiskey ain't no permanent cure for colds, but it sure do help you
think it is. Experience is better than expoundin' and--"
Again Laine shook his head. "Get me some dry clothes," he said, then
went to the table and looked over the letters laid in a row upon it.
"Have a taxi-cab here by quarter past six and don't come in again
until I ring. I'm going to lie down."
A few minutes later, on a rug-covered couch, General on the floor
beside him, he was trying to sleep. He was strangely tired, and for
a while his only well-defined feeling was one of impatience at having
to go out. Why must people do so many things they don't want to do?
He put out his hand and smoothed softly General's long ears. Why
couldn't a man be let alone and allowed to live the way he preferred?
Why-- "Quit it," he said, half aloud. "What isn't Why in life is
Wherefore, and guessing isn't your job.
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