I had come to the conclusion that he had dropped
asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenly sprang out of his
chair with the gesture of a man who has made up his mind, and put his pipe
down upon the mantelpiece.
"Sarasate plays at St. James's Hall this afternoon," he remarked. "What do
you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few hours?"
"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing."
"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first, and we
can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is a good deal of
German music on the programme, which is rather more to my taste than
Italian or French. It is introspective, and I want to introspect. Come
along!"
We traveled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short walk took
us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story which we had
listened to in the morning. It was a poky, little, shabby-genteel place,
where four lines of dingy, two-storied brick houses looked out into a
small railed-in inclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass, and a few clumps
of faded laurel bushes made a hard fight against a smoke-laden and
uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with JABEZ
WILSON in white letters, upon a corner house, announced the place where
our red-headed client carried on his business.
Pages:
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139