“Very well, Parker,” said the vicar, in his getting-things-done voice, “that seems reasonable. Let us have a man down at once. Suggest somebody, and we’ll telegraph here and now.”
Dr. Parker thought for a moment.
“Shall we say Murfin? A sound man, I believe, with a good reputation.”
“Belongs to the old school,” said Dr. Joliffe. “Why not Moriarty?”
Dr. Parker stiffened visibly at the interruption. “Wrote a cranky book, didn’t he, called ‘The Power of Faith’ or something?”
“Moriarty is a pioneer in mental and psychical matters. And Mr. Brandon has a high opinion of his book. It is only the other day that he advised me to read it.”
But the vicar shook his head in vigorous dissent. “The trouble is,” he said, “that Brandon is getting more than a little cranky himself.”
“Depends upon what you mean by the term,” said Dr. Joliffe bridling.
“You know, Joliffe, as well as I do,” the vicar expostulated, “that our friend Brandon, fine and comprehensive as his intellect may be, is now in a very curious state. His judgment is no longer to be trusted.”
“I’d trust his judgment before my own in some things,” was Dr. Joliffe’s rejoinder.