Dr. Joliffe hesitated. A cloud of indecision came on his face. “Before I do that,” he said very slowly, “I should like the opinion of someone who has more knowledge of mental disease than I pretend to.”
“But, my dear fellow,” said the vicar rather surprisedly, “after what I have told you aren’t you already convinced that the fellow is insane?”
“Insanity is a complicated subject,” said the cautious Joliffe. “A very much more complicated subject than the layman appreciates.”
The vicar, at heart an autocrat, began to bristle at once. Scenting contradiction in the quarter where he had least expected to find it, he grew suddenly impatient. “But even a layman knows,” he said in a tone of authority, “that insanity on one point is insanity on all.”
“Just so.”
“Well, that is already proved.”
“I shall not gainsay it. But a general practitioner is naturally cautious—it is his duty to be so—in a matter of this kind. Let me suggest that we have the opinion of a mental specialist before we commit ourselves to any line of action.”
In the opinion of Mr. Perry-Hennington this was perilously like a display of moral cowardice, but from a purely professional standpoint it might not be unreasonable. All the mental specialists of Harley Street would not alter the fact that the man was insane—it was the only charitable assumption. At the same time, Joliffe’s request was quite easy to understand.
“By all means.” The vicar’s tone of assent implied that he had to deal with a timid fellow. “We’ll consult anyone you please. Of course, only one opinion is possible, but if you feel it will help and strengthen you in your duty don’t let us hesitate. By all means let us have someone down at once.”
“I am sure it is the proper course to take.”