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“Which of you is Holmes? asked this apparition.
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“My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me, said my companion
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quietly.
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“I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran.
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“Indeed, Doctor, said Holmes blandly. “Pray take a seat.
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“I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I have
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traced her. What has she been saying to you?
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“It is a little cold for the time of the year, said Holmes.
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“What has she been saying to you? screamed the old man furiously.
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“But I have heard that the crocuses promise well, continued my
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companion imperturbably.
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“Ha! You put me off, do you? said our new visitor, taking a step
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forward and shaking his hunting-crop. “I know you, you scoundrel! I
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have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler.
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My friend smiled.
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“Holmes, the busybody!
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His smile broadened.
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“Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!
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Holmes chuckled heartily. “Your conversation is most entertaining,
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said he. “When you go out close the door, for there is a decided
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draught.
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“I will go when I have had my say. Don’t you dare to meddle with my
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affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a
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dangerous man to fall foul of! See here. He stepped swiftly forward,
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seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands.
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“See that you keep yourself out of my grip, he snarled, and hurling
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the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room.
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“He seems a very amiable person, said Holmes, laughing. “I am not
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quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that my
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grip was not much more feeble than his own. As he spoke he picked up
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the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, straightened it out again.
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“Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official
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detective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation,
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however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer from
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her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, we
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shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to Doctors’
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Commons, where I hope to get some data which may help us in this
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matter.
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It was nearly one o’clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from his
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excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over
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with notes and figures.
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“I have seen the will of the deceased wife, said he. “To determine its
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exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the present prices of the
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investments with which it is concerned. The total income, which at the
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time of the wife’s death was little short of £ 1,100, is now, through
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the fall in agricultural prices, not more than £ 750. Each daughter can
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claim an income of £ 250, in case of marriage. It is evident,
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therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would have had a
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mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him to a very
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serious extent. My morning’s work has not been wasted, since it has
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proved that he has the very strongest motives for standing in the way
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of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, this is too serious for
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dawdling, especially as the old man is aware that we are interesting
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ourselves in his affairs; so if you are ready, we shall call a cab and
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drive to Waterloo. I should be very much obliged if you would slip your
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revolver into your pocket. An Eley’s No. 2 is an excellent argument
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with gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into knots. That and a
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tooth-brush are, I think, all that we need.
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At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead,
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where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five
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miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a perfect day, with a
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bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees and
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wayside hedges were just throwing out their first green shoots, and the
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air was full of the pleasant smell of the moist earth. To me at least
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there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of the spring
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and this sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in
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the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over his
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eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the deepest thought.
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Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed
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over the meadows.
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“Look there! said he.
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A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening into
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a grove at the highest point. From amid the branches there jutted out
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the grey gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion.
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“Stoke Moran? said he.
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