In their Wisdom by C.P. Snow

Lord Hillmorton was considered by most people to be urbane and civilised, rather better natured than the general run of men in public life. But there was one person who didn't think so and had some reason for not thinking so. That was his heir, Dr Thomas Pemberton.

Dr Pemberton was too active and combative a man to indulge himself with fantasies. Day after day his big form hurtled itself through an existence without leisure, more chased by the minutes than most middle-aged men. A round of patients early, examinations for an insurance company in the middle of the morning, private patients between noon and two p.m. (no lunch), instructions to stockbroker two thirty to two forty-five, casts of two shows to inspect for medical condition before teatime, calls to pay on the theatres, back in the Fulham Road surgery between six and seven (passive panel of patients waiting there, frightened of him), a meal with his wife and the son still living at home, more visits five or six nights out of seven, a glance at his favourite reading, that is the Stock Exchange quotations, bed, sometimes not to be left undisturbed.