matter.

"It is very much the sort of thing that I expected," said he. "Of
course, we do not yet know what the relations may have been between Alec
Cunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The results shows that
the trap was skillfully baited. I am sure that you cannot fail to be
delighted with the traces of heredity shown in the p's and in the tails
of the g's. The absence of the i-dots in the old man's writing is also
most characteristic. Watson, I think our quiet rest in the country has
been a distinct success, and I shall certainly return much invigorated
to Baker Street to-morrow."

Adventure VII. The Crooked Man

One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own
hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding over a novel, for my day's work
had been an exhausting one. My wife had already gone upstairs, and the
sound of the locking of the hall door some time before told me that the
servants had also retired. I had risen from my seat and was knocking out
the ashes of my pipe when I suddenly heard the clang of the bell.

I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to twelve. This could not be
a visitor at so late an hour. A patient, evidently, and possibly an
all-night sitting. With a wry face I went out into the hall and opened
the door. To my astonishment it was Sherlock Holmes who stood upon my
step.

"Ah, Watson," said he, "I hoped that I might not be too late to catch
you."

"My dear fellow, pray come in."

"You look surprised, and no wonder! Relieved, too, I fancy! Hum! You
still smoke the Arcadia mixture of your bachelor days then! There's no
mistaking that fluffy ash upon your coat. It's easy to tell that you
have been accustomed to wear a uniform, Watson. You'll never pass as
a pure-bred civilian as long as you keep that habit of carrying your
handkerchief in your sleeve. Could you put me up to-night?"

"With pleasure."

"You told me that you had bachelor quarters for one, and I see that you
have no gentleman visitor at present. Your hat-stand proclaims as much."

"I shall be delighted if you will stay."

"Thank you. I'll fill the vacant peg then. Sorry to see that you've had
the British workman in the house. He's a token of evil. Not the drains,
I hope?"

"No, the gas."

"Ah! He has left two nail-marks from his boot upon your linoleum
just where the light strikes it. No, thank you, I had some supper at
Waterloo, but I'll smoke a pipe with you with pleasure."

I h