"I thought as
much," said he. "Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced for
earrings?"
"Yes, sir. He told me that a gypsy had done it for him when he was a lad."
"Hum!" said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is still with you?"
"Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him."
"And has your business been attended to in your absence?"
"Nothing to complain of, sir. There's never very much to do of a morning."
"That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion upon
the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, and I hope
that by Monday we may come to a conclusion."
"Well, Watson," said Holmes, when our visitor had left us, "what do you
make of it all?"
"I make nothing of it," I answered frankly. "It is a most mysterious
business."
"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious
it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are
really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to
identify. But I must be prompt over this matter."
"What are you going to do, then?" I asked.
"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three-pipe problem, and I beg that
you won't speak to me for fifty minutes." He curled himself up in his
chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his hawklike nose, and there he sat
with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting out like the bill
of some strange bird.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138