Mrs. Baxter was more ready to quarrel than to weep.
“The operation has been perfectly satisfactory.”
“Indeed!”
“Your husband is still in very grave danger, but I see no reason why he should not recover.”
Murchison picked his gloves out of his hat. An expressive glance passed between Mrs. Baxter and her sister.
“You’re not going, doctor?”
“Yes, Dr. Inglis remains in charge. One of the Roxton nurses will be here any moment.”
The farmer’s wife betrayed her indignation.
“What, that ninny! He ain’t fit to doctor a cat. I tell you, Dr. Murchison, I don’t want him in my house.” The man’s eyes flashed in his tired face. The woman’s impertinence was insufferable.
“Really, madam, Dr. Inglis is perfectly competent to be left in charge. I shall see your husband early to-morrow.”