elapt1c/ElapticAI-512 · Datasets at Fast360

text stringlengths 0 149M
glove buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves
the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp clang of
the bell.

“I have seen those symptoms before, said Holmes, throwing his
cigarette into the fire. “Oscillation upon the pavement always means an
affaire de cœur. She would like advice, but is not sure that the
matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet even here we may
discriminate. When a woman has been seriously wronged by a man she no
longer oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell wire. Here we
may take it that there is a love matter, but that the maiden is not so
much angry as perplexed, or grieved. But here she comes in person to
resolve our doubts.

As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons entered
to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself loomed behind
his small black figure like a full-sailed merchant-man behind a tiny
pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed her with the easy courtesy for
which he was remarkable, and, having closed the door and bowed her into
an armchair, he looked her over in the minute and yet abstracted
fashion which was peculiar to him.

“Do you not find, he said, “that with your short sight it is a little
trying to do so much typewriting?

“I did at first, she answered, “but now I know where the letters are
without looking. Then, suddenly realising the full purport of his
words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear and
astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. “You’ve heard about
me, Mr. Holmes, she cried, “else how could you know all that?

“Never mind, said Holmes, laughing; “it is my business to know things.
Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook. If not, why
should you come to consult me?

“I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, whose
husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had given him up
for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as much for me. I’m not
rich, but still I have a hundred a year in my own right, besides the
little that I make by the machine, and I would give it all to know what
has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel.

“Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry? asked Sherlock
Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to the ceiling.

Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss Mary
Sutherland. “Yes, I did bang out of the house, she said, “for it made
me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. Windibank—that is, my
father—took it all. He would not go to the police, and he would not go
to you, and so at last, as he would do nothing and kept on saying that
there was no harm done, it made me mad, and I just on with my things
and came right away to you.

“Your father, said Holmes, “your stepfather, surely, since the name is
different.

“Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, too,
for he is only five years and two months older than myself.

“And your mother is alive?

“Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn’t best pleased, Mr. Holmes,
when she married again so soon after father’s death, and a man who was
nearly fifteen years younger than herself. Father was a plumber in the
Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy business behind him, which
mother carried on with Mr. Hardy, the foreman; but when Mr. Windibank
came he made her sell the business, for he was very superior, being a
traveller in wines. They got £ 4700 for the goodwill and interest,
which wasn’t near as much as father could have got if he had been
alive.

I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient under this rambling and
inconsequential narrative, but, on the contrary, he had listened with
the greatest concentration of attention.

“Your own little income, he asked, “does it come out of the business?

“Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me by my uncle Ned in
Auckland. It is in New Zealand stock, paying 4½ per cent. Two thousand
five hundred pounds was the amount, but I can only touch the interest.

“You interest me extremely, said Holmes. “And since you draw so large
a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the bargain, you no
doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in every way. I believe that
a single lady can get on very nicely upon an income of about £ 60.

“I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes, but you understand
that as long as I live at home I don’t wish to be a burden to them, and
so they have the use of the money just while I am staying with them. Of
course, that is only just for the time. Mr. Windibank draws my interest
every quarter and pays it over to mother, and I find that I can do
pretty well with what I earn at typewriting. It brings me twopence a
sheet, and I can often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in a day.

“You have made your position very clear to me, said Holmes. “This is
my friend, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before
myself. Kindly tell us now all about your connection with Mr. Hosmer
Angel.

A flush stole over Miss Sutherland’s face, and she picked nervously at

glove buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves

the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp clang of

the bell.

“I have seen those symptoms before, said Holmes, throwing his

cigarette into the fire. “Oscillation upon the pavement always means an

affaire de cœur. She would like advice, but is not sure that the

matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet even here we may

discriminate. When a woman has been seriously wronged by a man she no

longer oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell wire. Here we

may take it that there is a love matter, but that the maiden is not so

much angry as perplexed, or grieved. But here she comes in person to

resolve our doubts.

As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons entered

to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself loomed behind

his small black figure like a full-sailed merchant-man behind a tiny

pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed her with the easy courtesy for

which he was remarkable, and, having closed the door and bowed her into

an armchair, he looked her over in the minute and yet abstracted

fashion which was peculiar to him.

“Do you not find, he said, “that with your short sight it is a little

trying to do so much typewriting?

“I did at first, she answered, “but now I know where the letters are

without looking. Then, suddenly realising the full purport of his

words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear and

astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. “You’ve heard about

me, Mr. Holmes, she cried, “else how could you know all that?

“Never mind, said Holmes, laughing; “it is my business to know things.

Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook. If not, why

should you come to consult me?

“I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, whose

husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had given him up

for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as much for me. I’m not

rich, but still I have a hundred a year in my own right, besides the

little that I make by the machine, and I would give it all to know what

has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel.

“Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry? asked Sherlock

Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to the ceiling.

Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss Mary

Sutherland. “Yes, I did bang out of the house, she said, “for it made

me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. Windibank—that is, my

father—took it all. He would not go to the police, and he would not go

to you, and so at last, as he would do nothing and kept on saying that

there was no harm done, it made me mad, and I just on with my things

and came right away to you.

“Your father, said Holmes, “your stepfather, surely, since the name is

different.

“Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, too,

for he is only five years and two months older than myself.

“And your mother is alive?

“Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn’t best pleased, Mr. Holmes,

when she married again so soon after father’s death, and a man who was

nearly fifteen years younger than herself. Father was a plumber in the

Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy business behind him, which

mother carried on with Mr. Hardy, the foreman; but when Mr. Windibank

came he made her sell the business, for he was very superior, being a

traveller in wines. They got £ 4700 for the goodwill and interest,

which wasn’t near as much as father could have got if he had been

alive.

I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient under this rambling and

inconsequential narrative, but, on the contrary, he had listened with

the greatest concentration of attention.

“Your own little income, he asked, “does it come out of the business?

“Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me by my uncle Ned in

Auckland. It is in New Zealand stock, paying 4½ per cent. Two thousand

five hundred pounds was the amount, but I can only touch the interest.

“You interest me extremely, said Holmes. “And since you draw so large

a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the bargain, you no

doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in every way. I believe that

a single lady can get on very nicely upon an income of about £ 60.

“I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes, but you understand

that as long as I live at home I don’t wish to be a burden to them, and

so they have the use of the money just while I am staying with them. Of

course, that is only just for the time. Mr. Windibank draws my interest

every quarter and pays it over to mother, and I find that I can do

pretty well with what I earn at typewriting. It brings me twopence a

sheet, and I can often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in a day.

“You have made your position very clear to me, said Holmes. “This is

my friend, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before

myself. Kindly tell us now all about your connection with Mr. Hosmer

Angel.

A flush stole over Miss Sutherland’s face, and she picked nervously at