§ 7
Fate came to the relief of Dr. Barrack.
The little conference at Sea View was pervaded by the sense of a new personality. This was a short and angry and heated little man, with active dark brown eyes in a tan face, a tooth-brush moustache of iron-grey, and a protruded lower jaw. He was dressed in a bright bluish-grey suit and bright brown boots, and he carried a bright brown leather bag.
He appeared mouthing outside the window, beyond the range of distinct hearing. His expression was blasphemous. He made threatening movements with his bag.
“Good God!” cried Dr. Barrack. “Sir Alpheus!... I had no idea of the time!”
He rushed out of the room and there was a scuffle in the passage.
“I ought to have been met,” said Sir Alpheus, entering, “I ought to have been met. It’s ridiculous to pretend you didn’t know the time. A general practitioner always knows the time. It is his first duty. I cannot understand the incivility of this reception. I have had to make my way to your surgery, Dr. Barrack, without assistance; not a cab free at the station; I have had to come down this road in the heat, carrying everything myself, reading all the names on the gates—the most ridiculous and banal names. The Taj, Thyme Bank, The Cedars, and Capernaum, cheek by jowl! It’s worse than Freud.”
Dr. Barrack expressed further regrets confusedly and indistinctly.
“We have been talking, Sir Alpheus,” said Sir Eliphaz, advancing as if to protect the doctor from his specialist, “upon some very absorbing topics. That must be our excuse for this neglect. We have been discussing education—and the universe. Fate, free-will, predestination absolute.” It is not every building contractor can quote Milton.
The great surgeon regarded the patentee of Temanite.
“Fate—fiddlesticks!” said Sir Alpheus suddenly and rudely. “That’s no excuse for not meeting me.” His bright little eyes darted round the company and recognized Mr. Huss. “What! my patient not in bed! Not even in bed! Go to bed, sir! Go to bed!”
He became extremely abusive to Dr. Barrack. “You treat an operation, Sir, with a levity—!”