The Mirror Crack'd: from Side to Side Read Online Free PDF

vehicles for motor cars. He was not very good with machinery and in due course a certain Mr. Bardwell took over from him. The name Inch persisted. Mr. Bardwell in due course sold out to Mr. Roberts, but in the telephone book Inch’s Taxi Service was still the official name, and the older ladies of the community continued to refer to their journeys as going somewhere “in Inch,” as though they were Jonah and Inch was a whale.
    II
    â€œDr. Haydock called,” said Miss Knight reproachfully. “I told him you’d gone to tea with Mrs. Bantry. He said he’d call in again tomorrow.”
    She helped Miss Marple off with her wraps.
    â€œAnd now, I expect, we’re tired out,” she said accusingly.
    â€œ You may be,” said Miss Marple. “ I am not.”
    â€œYou come and sit cosy by the fire,” said Miss Knight, as usual paying no attention. (“You don’t need to take much notice of what the old dears say. I just humour them.”) “And how would we fancy a nice cup of Ovaltine? Or Horlicks for a change?”
    Miss Marple thanked her and said she would like a small glass of dry sherry. Miss Knight looked disapproving.
    â€œI don’t know what the doctor would say to that, I’m sure,” she said, when she returned with the glass.
    â€œWe will make a point of asking him tomorrow morning,” said Miss Marple.
    On the following morning Miss Knight met Dr. Haydock in the hall, and did some agitated whispering.
    The elderly doctor came into the room rubbing his hands, for it was a chilly morning.
    â€œHere’s our doctor to see us,” said Miss Knight gaily. “Can I take your gloves, Doctor?”
    â€œThey’ll be all right here,” said Haydock, casting them carelessly on a table. “Quite a nippy morning.”
    â€œA little glass of sherry perhaps?” suggested Miss Marple.
    â€œI heard you were taking to drink. Well, you should never drink alone.”
    The decanter and the glasses were already on a small table by Miss Marple. Miss Knight left the room.
    Dr. Haydock was a very old friend. He had semiretired, but came to attend certain of his old patients.
    â€œI hear you’ve been falling about,” he said as he finished his glass. “It won’t do, you know, not at your age. I’m warning you. And I hear you didn’t want to send for Sandford.”
    Sandford was Haydock’s partner.
    â€œThat Miss Knight of yours sent for him anyway—and she was quite right.”
    â€œI was only bruised and shaken a little. Dr. Sandford said so. I could have waited quite well until you were back.”
    â€œNow look here, my dear. I can’t go on forever. And Sandford, let me tell you, has better qualifications than I have. He’s a first class man.”
    â€œThe young doctors are all the same,” said Miss Marple. “They take your blood pressure, and whatever’s the matter with you, you get some kind of mass produced variety of new pills. Pink ones, yellowones, brown ones. Medicine nowadays is just like a supermarket—all packaged up.”
    â€œServe you right if I prescribed leeches, and black draught, and rubbed your chest with camphorated oil.”
    â€œI do that myself when I’ve got a cough,” said Miss Marple with spirit, “and very comforting it is.”
    â€œWe don’t like getting old, that’s what it is,” said Haydock gently. “I hate it.”
    â€œYou’re quite a young man compared to me,” said Miss Marple. “And I don’t really mind getting old—not that in itself. It’s the lesser indignities.”
    â€œI think I know what you mean.”
    â€œNever being alone! The difficulty of geting out for a few minutes by oneself. And even my knitting—such a comfort that has always been, and I really am a good knitter. Now I drop stitches all the time—and quite often I don’t even know I’ve