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THE JUDICIAL MURDER OF DOCTOR WATSON
I
“Cleverness and cunning are the gifts of heaven; ignorance and stupidity may be feigned. Jealousy arises often from a narrow heart, disputes are set off by thoughtless jokes.”
So the fellow mused.
I had arranged to meet him at ten at my old Club in Soho, and then to take him to Holmes' house where Holmes would listen to what he had to say. Holmes himself was laid up with a terrible sort of cold. None the less, when I informed him about the appeal I had received from this plaintive man, Holmes had demanded that I bring him to Baker Street as soon as possible, where Holmes, somewhat in the manner of the Princess de Cleves, would receive him whilst sitting up in bed sipping cocoa.
The fellow who now sat before me was the sort of man who, whilst being far from ugly in almost all aspects, was none the less closest to ugliness in the form of his hands, which were far from small, and certainly indelicate. He was dressed in the professorial manner, with a tweed jacket, half-moon glasses and a watch-chain.
“For the heart,” he continued, “is more dangerous than the River with its nine bends, and there are evil faces that ten coats of mail cannot conceal. Wine and women have often caused the downfall of states, but who has ever seen good men spoiled by books?”
“Quite, quite,” I said. “But look here, my good man, what does all this mean?”
My request was met with marble silence. He had been talking in this manner from the very first time he accosted me in the street. I was quite baffled! With a sly look he rubbed his hands together and said:
“There is a season for frowning. There is a season for laughing.”
As it happened, our repeated knocks on Holmes' door were rebuffed by the housemaid, who assured us that nothing was wrong, but that we were not to call for a good while.
II
{Here the engines of murder ticked forward to their inevitable destination. “One, two”, they said; “One, two, one, two”, and then “One”.}
III
It was a heavy volume in French called (I could not read it very well) The Flares of Evil with which he battered on my poor skull. As I lay in a tumbled pool, thinking on my former beauty, he said:
“ ... in favour of something more valuable.”
“The only thing I understand,” said I, “is that I am the one who does not understand.” |
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