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2020-08-03 12:33:17  Դձ
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ӯbbinصַַ:a g 9 559 v i p<"Is he in?" he asked, eagerly."My name is Sherlock Holmes."

"But there is so much to explain."

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For half an hour it seemed that we were. What with actualsuffocation, and what with the poisonous fumes of the chloroform,the Lady Frances seemed to have passed the last point of recall. Andthen, at last, with artificial respiration, with injected ether,with every device that science could suggest, some flutter of life,some quiver of the eyelids, some dimming of a mirror, spoke of theslowly returning life. A cab had driven up, and Holmes, parting theblind, looked out at it. "Here is Lestrade with his warrant," said he."He will find that his birds have flown. And here," he added as aheavy step hurried along the passage, "is someone who has a betterright to nurse this lady than we have. Good morning, Mr. Green; Ithink that the sooner we can move the Lady Frances the better.Meanwhile, the funeral may proceed, and the poor old woman who stilllies in that coffin may go to her last resting-place alone.""Should you care to add the case to your annals, my dear Watson,"said Holmes that evening, "it can only be as an example of thattemporary eclipse to which even the best-balanced mind may be exposed.Such slips are common to all mortals, and the greatest is he who canrecognize and repair them. To this modified credit I may, perhaps,make some claim. My night was haunted by the thought that somewherea clue, a strange sentence, a curious observation, had come under mynotice and had been too easily dismissed. Then, suddenly, in thegray of the morning, the words came back to me. It was the remark ofthe undertaker's wife, as reported by Philip Green. She had said,'It should be there before now. It took longer, being out of theordinary.' It was the coffin of which she spoke. It had been out ofthe ordinary. That could only mean that it had been made to somespecial measurement. But why? Why? Then in an instant I remembered thedeep sides, and the little wasted figure at the bottom. Why so large acoffin for so small a body? To leave room for another body. Both wouldbe buried under the one certificate. It had all been so clear, if onlymy own sight had not been dimmed. At eight the Lady Frances would beburied. Our one chance was to stop the coffin before it left thehouse.

The Gold King paused for a minute or more, his head sunk in hishands, lost in deep thought.

"'I answered him, and asked in turn who I was talking with."'"I'm Jack Prendergast," said he, and by God! you'll learn to blessmy name before you've done with me."

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Referring to your letter of the 19th, I beg to state that I havelooked into the inquiry of your client, Mr. Robert Ferguson, ofFerguson and Muirhead, tea brokers, of Mincing Lane, and that thematter has been brought to a satisfactory conclusion. With thanksfor your recommendation, I am, sir,<"So he did me. That's the puzzling part. Why should a perfectlyhonest man- Well, well, here's a large stationer's. We shall begin ourresearches here."

"I rather gathered that you had some idea of the sort in your head,"said he. "But why these personal attentions?"

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"Come, Watson, come!" he cried.

"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusion you, but it hasalways been my habit to hide none of my methods, either from my friendWatson or from anyone who might take an intelligent interest inthem. But, first, as I am rather shaken by the knocking about whichI had in the dressing-room, I think that I shall help myself to a dashof your brandy, Colonel. My strength has been rather tried of late.""I trust you had no more of those nervous attacks."

<"It is really very good of you to come, Watson," said he. "Itmakes a considerable difference to me, having someone with me onwhom I can thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless orelse biassed. If you will keep the two corner seats I shall get thetickets.""Why, then- alas!- it must be you and not the stone."

"The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, HanoverSquare, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the fatherof the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, LordBackwater, Lord Eustace, and Lady Clara St. Simon (the younger brotherand sister of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington. Thewhole party proceeded afterwards to the house of Mr. Aloysius Doran,at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been prepared. It appearsthat some little trouble was caused by a woman, whose name has notbeen ascertained, who endeavoured to force her way into the houseafter the bridal party, alleging that she had some claim upon Lord St.Simon. It was only after a painful and prolonged scene that she wasejected by the butler and the footman. The bride, who hadfortunately entered the house before this unpleasant interruption, hadsat down to breakfast with the rest, when she complained of a suddenindisposition and retired to her room. Her prolonged absence havingcaused some comment, her father followed her, but learned from hermaid that she had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caughtup an ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of thefootmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thusapparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mistress,believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that hisdaughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction withthe bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communication with thepolice, and very energetic inquiries are being made, which willprobably result in a speedy clearing up of this very singularbusiness. Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing hadtranspired as to the whereabouts of the missing lady. There arerumours of foul play in the matter, and it is said that the policehave caused the arrest of the woman who had caused the originaldisturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or some other motive,she may have been concerned in the strange disappearance of thebride."

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<"Dear me! But surely you have inadvertently let out the name of yourclient? It is no doubt General de Merville.""I am glad you were not forced to break his woolly head, Watson. Iobserved your manoeuvres with the poker. But he is really rather aharmless fellow, a great muscular, foolish, blustering baby, andeasily cowed, as you have seen. He is one of the Spencer John gang andhas taken part in some dirty work of late which I may clear up whenI have time. His immediate principal, Barney, is a more astute person.They specialize in assaults, intimidation, and the like. What I wantto know is, who is at the back of them on this particular occasion?""But why do they want to intimidate you?"

"Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but,between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing evidence ofthis wound of mine, I should be surprised if they believed mystatement; for it is a very extraordinary one, and I have not muchin the way of proof with which to back it up; and, even if they,believe me, the clues which I can give them are so vague that it isa question whether justice will be done."

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ӯbbinصֶַĴ֤֣ƴвҪäĿ ܸթ "It is a loyal friend and a chivalrous gentleman," said Holmes,holding up a restraining hand. "Let that now and forever be enough forus." ϸ

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ӯbbinصַΰSpaceXɴStarshipȾͼ ⽫2023ʵ Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examinationthrough the open window, endeavoured in every way to force the shutteropen, but without success. There was no slit through which a knifecould be passed to raise the bar. Then with his lens he tested thehinges, but they were of solid iron, built firmly into the massivemasonry. "Hum!" said he, scratching his chin in some perplexity, "mytheory certainly presents some difficulties. No one could pass theseshutters if they were bolted. Well, we shall see if the insidethrows any light upon the matter." ϸ

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