Dr Finlay's Casebook by AJ Cronin Page A

removed and in their place the floor must
be covered with a coconut fibre carpet.’
    ‘Is this really necessary, matron?’
    ‘It is in your best interests, Dr Finlay, otherwise heaven knows what will happen to your priceless carpets with messy and often incontinent young children in the house!’
    Finlay was silent. This was an aspect of his philanthropy he had failed completely to discern. Meanwhile the matron continued. ‘I also strongly advise you to remove all breakable objects.
These fine K’ang Hsi plates on the sideboard must be stored, so also that beautiful Ch’ien Lung vase and the Ming bowl. These enticingly coloured objects would immediately attract the
children, who would either climb up to pull them down or throw stones at them.’
    Finlay was silent; then, sarcastically, he said, ‘Ye ken a lot about antiques, madam. Ye must have served your time in one o’them second-hand junk shops.’
    ‘Unfortunately no, Dr Finlay. The little knowledge I possess was acquired from my dear father, Regius Professor of Oriental Studies at Oxford University, whom I frequently accompanied on
his visits to the East.’
    ‘He should have left you there, madam. One of them sheiks would have given you what you rightly deserve – a damn good shaking and whatever would follow it.’
    ‘No man yet born will ever shake me.’
    ‘Indeed, madam?’ said Finlay putting his hands on her shoulder and giving her a gentle shake.
    Immediately he found himself sprawling on the floor.
    ‘I should have told you, doctor, that when I was at Girton I took a special course in self-defence which gives me the ability to deal with any attacker as I have dealt with you.’
    While still in his ignominious position, Finlay laughed heartily as though at an excellent joke until, without warning, a sudden spring put him back on his feet with his hands firmly gripping
her waist. Then she was lifted from her feet and laid tenderly on her back on the Kirman rug, with her skirt over her head and her white knickers exposed, paying tribute to the skill of her
laundress and the slender beauty of her legs. To ensure her immobility Finlay seated himself upon her stomach, murmuring, ‘No man, madam? What about Girton now?’
    At that precise moment there came a knock on the door and Janet entered with a tray.
    ‘I thought ye’d be wantin’ coffee, sir, for yourself and your lady guest.’
    ‘Thank you Janet. Serve it now.’
    ‘No sugar for me please, Janet.’ The request came from somewhere about Finlay’s nether regions. And at this evidence of hardihood Finlay stood up and taking hold of both hands
of his victim, lifted her to her feet and placed her tenderly in a Louis XVI armchair.
    ‘Don’t talk about this, Janet,’ said Finlay as he received his cup. ‘Miss Lane was just showing me some exercises she learned at her college.’
    ‘It seems to me, sir,’ said Janet as she departed, ‘that the lady was showing ye more than her exercises.’
    ‘Well, now that we are seated and in our right minds, dear matron, may I enquire if the coffee is to your taste?’
    ‘Delicious, you great brute. I’ll take another cup if you have it.’
    ‘Certainly, Miss Lane,’ Finlay responded. approaching with the coffee pot. ‘I believe you are Alice Lane, if I am ever permitted to address you by your first
name?’
    ‘You may do so now, Dr Finlay. To be absolutely truthful I came here so fed up by all the praiseworthy things said of you in the paper and elsewhere that I thought I would teach you a
lesson. Instead it is you who have so taught me.’
    ‘Oh, nonsense, Alice! I would not dream of behaving rudely to a lady so charming as you and one in so useful and important a position as that to which you have been appointed. I can now
tell you, emphatically, that you may do as you think fit here for your little ones. Your arrangements are accepted before they are made. For why in the name of heaven should I act as the proud
proprietor of a