“He was feeling distinctly ill at ease. Dr Kincraig’s waiting room was furnished in gloomy good taste, with an oak table, substantial chairs and a solid Victorian sideboard, complete with a Nottingham lace mat and two Chinese vases. A Turkish carpet, its colours faded with age, lay in front of the brilliantly polished brass fender of the cast-iron and tiled fireplace. A reproduction of Landseer’s The Stag at Bay hung over the mantelpiece. Presumably The Stag at Bay was a reference to Dr Kincraig...’s Scottish origins, but George thought it was a tactless choice. Dr Alistair Kincraig, a tall, stooping, sandy-haired man with ferocious eyebrows, had greeted Haldean with restrained but genuine pleasure. Both Major Haldean and Mr Lassiter would have to wait, but yes, he could see them that morning. Jack had gone into the consulting room first and had been in there for a good twenty minutes. George, who was not in the mood to be entertained by the Windsor Magazine or, indeed, any other publication, felt as if he’d spent most of his life sympathizing with The Stag at Bay.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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