minnbanya/nlp-a2-sherlock · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 88

“And Mademoiselle’s address?” he asked.

“Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John’s Wood.”

Holmes took a note of it. “One other question,” said he. “Was the
photograph a cabinet?”

“It was.”

“Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have
some good news for you. And good-night, Watson,” he added, as the
wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. “If you will be
good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three o’clock I should like
to chat this little matter over with you.”


II.

At three o’clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not
yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house
shortly after eight o’clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire,
however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long he might be.
I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though it was
surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were
associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still,
the nature of the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a
character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the
investigation which my friend had on hand, there was something in his
masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which
made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the
quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most inextricable
mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success that the very
possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my head.

It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking
groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed face and
disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my
friend’s amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look three
times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he
vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in five minutes
tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his
pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed
heartily for some minutes.

“Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he
was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair.

“What is it?”

“It’s quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed
my morning, or what I ended by doing.”

“I can’t imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, and
perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler.”

“Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however.
I left the house a little after eight o’clock this morning in the
character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and
freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of them, and you will know all
that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge. It is a _bijou_
villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front right up to
the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room on
the right side, well furnished, with long windows almost to the floor,
and those preposterous English window fasteners which a child could
open. Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window
could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and
examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting
anything else of interest.

“I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there
was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent
the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in
exchange twopence, a glass of half-and-half, two fills of shag tobacco,
and as much information as I could desire about Miss Adler, to say
nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in whom I was
not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was compelled to
listen to.”

“And what of Irene Adler?” I asked.

“Oh, she has turned all the men’s heads down in that part. She is the
daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the
Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives
out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner. Seldom
goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only one male
visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing,
never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey
Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a
confidant. They had driven him home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews,
and knew all about him. When I had listened to all they had to tell, I
began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think
over my plan of campaign.

“This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter.
He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between
them, and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client,
his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably
transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less
likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should

“And Mademoiselle’s address?” he asked.

“Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John’s Wood.”

Holmes took a note of it. “One other question,” said he. “Was the

photograph a cabinet?”

“It was.”

“Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have

some good news for you. And good-night, Watson,” he added, as the

wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. “If you will be

good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three o’clock I should like

to chat this little matter over with you.”

II.

At three o’clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not

yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house

shortly after eight o’clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire,

however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long he might be.

I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though it was

surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were

associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still,

the nature of the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a

character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the

investigation which my friend had on hand, there was something in his

masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which

made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the

quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most inextricable

mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success that the very

possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my head.

It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking

groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed face and

disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my

friend’s amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look three

times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he

vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in five minutes

tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his

pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed

heartily for some minutes.

“Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he

was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair.

“What is it?”

“It’s quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed

my morning, or what I ended by doing.”

“I can’t imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, and

perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler.”

“Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however.

I left the house a little after eight o’clock this morning in the

character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and

freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of them, and you will know all

that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge. It is a _bijou_

villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front right up to

the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room on

the right side, well furnished, with long windows almost to the floor,

and those preposterous English window fasteners which a child could

open. Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window

could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and

examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting

anything else of interest.

“I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there

was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent

the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in

exchange twopence, a glass of half-and-half, two fills of shag tobacco,

and as much information as I could desire about Miss Adler, to say

nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in whom I was

not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was compelled to

listen to.”

“And what of Irene Adler?” I asked.

“Oh, she has turned all the men’s heads down in that part. She is the

daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the

Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives

out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner. Seldom

goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only one male

visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing,

never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey

Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a

confidant. They had driven him home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews,

and knew all about him. When I had listened to all they had to tell, I

began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think

over my plan of campaign.

“This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter.

He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between

them, and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client,

his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably

transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less

likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should