The Alcoholics by Jim Thompson

much. He-why, a lot of doctors would have pressed criminal charges, but he not only had said and done nothing but was trying to help her. And why? What for? So that she could sit and sleep with her eyes open while he was talking to her?
    The spark came.
    A full two minutes after he had ceased speaking, Miss Baker's soft lips moved.
    "Yeth, thir," she murmured.
    Doctor Murphy's eyes flashed. The freckles suddenly stood out on his pale face like so many copper pennies.
    "Wha-," said Miss Baker. And then, save for vague gurgling sounds, she was silent. For her chin and jaws were in the grip of Doc Murphy's strong right hand, and her mouth was being forced open.
    "Open up!" he said grimly. "Wider! Now stick out your tongue!" Miss Baker gasped, struggled and went limp. She opened her mouth to its widest and extended her tongue to its utmost. Doctor Murphy picked up a thin wooden tongue depressor and began probing. Then, as suddenly as he had taken his grip he released it, and tossed the depressor aside. "There's no reason for you to lisp," he said. "Why do you do it?" "Why I-I-" Miss Baker scrubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand. "I-"
    "Always done it, eh? Well, there might have been a reason for it at one time, but there isn't now. Not the slightest. I'd cut it out if I were you."
    Miss Baker nodded. "Y-yeth-"
    " Yes! Say it- yes!"
    "Yes," said the nurse, clearly and firmly.
    "There," said Doc Murphy, leaning back in his chair. "See how easy it is? Now watch yourself on that, after this. It's harmless enough in itself, but where there's no reason for it, as in your case, it's a manifestation of something which might not be-uh-desirable. It's a recessive factor. Subconsciously, you're trying to move back into infancy. Look at it this way. Just what did you have back there in infancy, aside from an absence of responsibility? Not much, is it, compared to what you have or could have as an adult?"
    Miss Baker's smile was as friendly as his own; more than that: there was something so womanly sweet about it that Doc Murphy felt a pleasant prickling of his scalp.
    "Now, I hope I haven't been-"
    "You've been wonderful," said Lucretia Baker, softly. "Just wonderful. It's so nithe-nice of you to take such an interest in me."
    "Forget it," said Doc. "Haven't done anything. Suppose we have another talk, later in the afternoon?"
    "Oh, I'd love to!" breathed Miss Baker; and, a little hastily, the doctor dismissed her.
    He watched her leave-disturbed, a trifle uneasy, but not unpleasantly so. Judging by her reaction (and what else was there to judge by?) he had managed the interview very well. He had been a little rough, perhaps, at the beginning, but apparently it was just what she needed. Perhaps if he'd got rough years ago with that little nurse at Bellevue… and this Baker babe looked a lot like her, come to think of it…
    Ah, well-Doctor Murphy shook his head in self-reproof-that was out. That had nothing to do with his interest in Lucretia Baker. It damned well couldn't have. He was a pretty free and easy guy-admittedly too free and easy-but he wasn't crazy. And next to diddling a woman patient, there wasn't a surer way for a doctor to jam himself up than to play around with his nurse.
    You just couldn't do those things. No more than you could beat a guy with a bullwhip or stab a waiter in the belly.
    Meanwhile, as she paused outside the office to collect herself, Miss Baker's thoughts were as confused as the doctor's own. She was no longer fearful; there was no room for fear, with every cell of her brain and body flooded with anger. It was a kind of scatter-gun anger, its main impact diverted somehow from its nominal and original target. There was a shield of authority between it and him, the doctor. Impregnable authority. As yet, at least, he had not given her the ammunition to penetrate it. He had struck painfully into her defenses, inciting her to fury but giving her no focus for it.
    " Jutht wait ," she promised herself. "