"Yes. Harry told me about it."
"All? The evidence of the doctors?"
"No, not that."
"Harold Harmsworth was shot, you will remember. At the coroner's inquest the whole question naturally turned on the distance from his head at which the gun which killed him was fired. This, you will easily understand, was of the utmost importance, for if the muzzle of the gun was not more than, say, a yard or four feet off, it was certainly possible that he had shot himself accidentally. But imagine the gun to have been ten feet off, it becomes certain that some gun not his own shot him. Now, his head was shattered; it looked to the ordinary mind as if the injury must have been done by shot that had already begun to spread—I can not speak technically. But the doctor who maintained that the shot might easily have been fired within the shorter distances—who was responsible, in fact, for the case not going beyond the coroner—was Dr. Godfrey Armytage."
Geoffrey was silent a moment.
"Well, it is all natural enough," he said at length, "Mr. Francis, on your own showing, has probably known the man for a long time; it is natural also that he did not wish to tell Harry his real name, for it was connected with that dreadful tragedy. It is also natural, if Dr. Armytage is an eminent man, that he should wish to consult a doctor he knew about his condition. Why not?"
"For this reason," said Lady Oxted: "Dr. Armytage is not a heart specialist any more than you or I. He is a surgeon, and not a very reputable one. I needn't go into details. But it would be as sensible to go to him, if you suffered from the heart, as to go to a cabinetmaker."
Geoffrey frowned.
"What does it all mean?" he asked sharply.
"I have no idea at all," said Lady Oxted. "Probably it means nothing. Things seldom do. In any case, say nothing to Harry."