“I just can’t talk just now,” she said.
“Of course you can’t, child.”
Hannah felt that she probably ought to take charge of everything, but she felt still more acutely that she should be at the service of Mary’s wishes, or lack of them for that matter, she told herself.
I can’t stand to send her to bed, Mary thought.
“It’s all ready,” she said abruptly and, she feared, rather ruthlessly, and walked quickly across to the downstairs bedroom door and opened it. “See?” She walked in and turned on the light and faced her aunt. “I got it ready in case Jay,” she said, and absently smoothed the pillow. “Just as well I did.”
“You go straight to bed, Mary,” Hannah said. “Let me help if I…”
Mary went into the kitchen; then Hannah could hear her in the hall; after a moment she came back. “Here’s a clean nightgown,” she said, “and a wrapper,” putting them across her aunt’s embarrassed hands. “It’ll be big, I’m afraid, the wrapper, it’s-was-it’s Jay’s, but if you’ll turn up the sleeves it’ll do in a pinch, I guess.” She went past Hannah into the living room.
“I’ll see to that, Mary,” Hannah hurried after her; she was already gathering tumblers towards the tray.
“Great-goodness!” Mary exclaimed. She lifted the bottle. “Do you mean to say I drank all that?” It was three-quarters empty.
“No. Andrew had some, so did I, so did J-your father.”
“But-just one apiece, Aunt Hannah. I must have. Nearly all of it.”
“It hasn’t had any effect.”
“How on earth!” She held the low whiskey close to her eyes and looked at it as if she were threading a needle. “Well I most certainly don’t need a hot toddy,” she said.
