"She hated me. She hates me still ... yes...." He waited. The doctor was embarrassed and came back to the object of the visit. "I should be ever so much more comfortable in my mind if you saw a specialist, Mr.—er—Jackson. You see how difficult it is for me to give an opinion? I may be wrong. I know nothing of your history, your medical history I mean. There are so many men in town who could give you a better and more valuable opinion than I. A country practitioner like myself is rather in a backwater. One has the usual cases that come to one in a small country town, maternity cases, commonplace ailments ... it is difficult to keep abreast of the extraordinary developments in medical science...." "Do you know anything about Machonicies College?" asked the colonel unexpectedly. "Yes, of course." The doctor was surprised. "It is one of the best of the technical schools. Many of our best doctors and chemists take a preparatory course there. Why?" "I merely asked. As to your specialists ... I hardly think I shall bother them." Dr. Merriget watched the tall figure striding down the red-tiled path between the banked flowers, and was still standing on the doorstep when the whine of his visitor's machine had gone beyond the limits of his hearing. "H'm," said Dr. Merriget as he returned to his study. He sat awhile thinking. "Mr. Jackson?" he said aloud. "I wonder why the colonel calls himself 'Mr. Jackson'?"
