"No, sir. He been in the kitchen 'most all day. You told me this
morning to put fresh air in here and I put, but me and General ain't
been in here since I clean up. He's been powerful poorly to-day,
sir."

"I see he has." Laine's hand went to the dog and rested a moment on
his head. "Close up those windows and turn on the lights and see
about the heat. This room is almost as cheerful as a morgue at
daybreak."

"I reckon you done took a little cold, sir." Moses closed the
windows, drew the curtains, turned on more heat, and made the room a
blaze of light. "It's a very spacious room, sir, and for them what
loves books it's very aspirin', but of course in winter-time a room
without a woman or a blazin' fire in it ain't what it might be.
Don't you think you'd better take a little something, sir, to het you
up inside?"

Laine, bending over General, shook his head. "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--"