br /> When we were sttled in the dining-room and
Gwen had brought the cherry brandy, Mr. Pethe-rick
explained the reson for his visit.
"Miss Marple," Be said, "you must forgive an
old friend for takin a liberty. What I have come
here for is a consultation."
I couldn't understand at all what he meant, and
he went on:
"In a case of illess one likes two points of
view--that of the specialist and that of the family
physician. It is the fashion to regard the former as
of more value, but I am not sure that I agree. The
specialist has experience only in his own subject--the
family doctor has, perhaps, less knowledge--but
a wider experience."
I knew just what he meant, because a young
niece of mine not ing before had hurried her
child off to a very ell-known specialist in skin
diseases without consulting her own doctor whom
she considered an old dodderer, and the specialist
had ordered some vegY expensive treatment, and
later they found that all the child was suffering
from was rather an un0sual form of measles.
I just mention this--though I have a horror of digressing--to show that I appreciated Mr.
Petherick's point--bui I still hadn't any idea of
what he was driving at.
"If Mr. Rhodes is ill--" I said, and stopped--because
the poor ma gave the most dreadful
laugh.
He said: "I expect t( die of a broken neck in a