It’s good not to talk

“Mr X doesn’t talk to patients,” she said.

Joe had been having some problems, but was unable to contact his consultant. So I’d rung Mr X’s secretary.

“Pardon?” I said, wondering if I had heard properly. Or was this the ultimate expression of keyhole surgery; doctor and patient shouting through the keyhole at each other?

“Mr X doesn’t talk to patients,” she repeated, like Browning’s wise thrush, which “sings each song twice over, / Lest you think he never …