But what other is there? cried the banker with a gesture of despair.
If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain them?
It is our task to find that out, replied Holmes; so now, if you
please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, and devote
an hour to glancing a little more closely into details.
My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, which
I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy were deeply
stirred by the story to which we had listened. I confess that the guilt
of the banker s son appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his
unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes judgment that I
felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long as he was
dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He hardly spoke a word the
whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his
breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought.
Our client appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of
hope which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a
desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway
journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest residence
of the great financier.
Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing back a
little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-clad lawn,
stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed the
entrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket, which led into
a narrow path between two neat hedges stretching from the road to the
kitchen door, and forming the tradesmen s entrance. On the left ran a
lane which led to the stables, and was not itself within the grounds at
all, being a public, though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us
standing at the door and walked slowly all round the house, across the
front, down the tradesmen s path, and so round by the garden behind
into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I went into
the dining-room and waited by the fire until he should return. We were
sitting there in silence when the door opened and a young lady came in.
She was rather above the middle height, slim, with dark hair and eyes,
which seemed the darker against the absolute pallor of her skin. I do
not think that I have ever seen such deadly paleness in a woman s face.
Her lips, too, were bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying.
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