As assured by the author and title, this is a summery flummery featuring vocal, testy Sir Lancelot Spratt, with incidental appearances of other familiars in the chronic continuity of the Doctor' books. Sir Lancelot, having left St. Swithin's, is presumably in full rustic retirement, fishing and following the cricket scores, when his legal claim to his private preserve is challenged by a neighbor. His intervertebral discs take him in and out of his former hospital; he also obstructs, and then promotes, his niece in nurse's training romance with a young doctor.... Arrant nonsense, of course, and these books are a little like measles, endemic, lowgrade infectious, and- yes- spotty. (Kirkus Reviews)