Not even Gil MacIntosh could accuse him of being anything other than a open-handed, generous man now. Not after he’d paid to have Mrs. Finney transferred to a private room. His insides gave a small shudder when he recalled meeting Mrs. Finney for the first time, and of walking down that row of pathetic cots with their pathetic human contents. He almost wished he could rescue all of those afflicted souls, but he didn’t have that much money. He felt better about Mrs. Finney, though. Much better. Of course Alex couldn’t very well go around boasting of his benevolent deed, but he had no doubt whatever that Kate Finney would spread the word. She’d have to. After all, Alex was helping her out, wasn’t he? He was feeling so good about himself, in fact, that he even broke into song at one point. No one else was around at the time, or he’d never have done such an unconventional thing. “Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do. I’m half crazy, all for the love of you.” He liked the tune.
