of them, I answered. But if I am to go, I must pack at once, for I
have only half an hour.
My experience of camp life in Afghanistan had at least had the effect
of making me a prompt and ready traveller. My wants were few and
simple, so that in less than the time stated I was in a cab with my
valise, rattling away to Paddington Station. Sherlock Holmes was pacing
up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt figure made even gaunter and
taller by his long grey travelling-cloak and close-fitting cloth cap.
It is really very good of you to come, Watson, said he. It makes a
considerable difference to me, having someone with me on whom I can
thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless or else biassed.
If you will keep the two corner seats I shall get the tickets.
We had the carriage to ourselves save for an immense litter of papers
which Holmes had brought with him. Among these he rummaged and read,
with intervals of note-taking and of meditation, until we were past
Reading. Then he suddenly rolled them all into a gigantic ball and
tossed them up onto the rack.
Have you heard anything of the case? he asked.
Not a word. I have not seen a paper for some days.
The London press has not had very full accounts. I have just been
looking through all the recent papers in order to master the
particulars. It seems, from what I gather, to be one of those simple
cases which are so extremely difficult.
That sounds a little paradoxical.
But it is profoundly true. Singularity is almost invariably a clue.
The more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the more difficult it
is to bring it home. In this case, however, they have established a
very serious case against the son of the murdered man.
It is a murder, then?
Well, it is conjectured to be so. I shall take nothing for granted
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