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162 stories from 11 authors
The problem presented to us by Miss Violet Marsh made rather a pleasant change from our usual routine work.
The matron had given her leave to go out as soon as the women’s tea was over and Maria looked forward to her evening out.
It was one of those chilly and empty afternoons in early winter, when the daylight is silver rather than gold and pewter rather than silver.
I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair.
Edward Nutt, the industrious editor of the Daily Reformer, sat at his desk, opening letters and marking proofs to the merry tune of a typewriter, worked by a vigorous young lady.
Flambeau and his friend the priest were sitting in the Temple Gardens about sunset; and their neighbourhood or some such accidental influence had turned their talk to matters of legal process.
The consulting-rooms of Dr Orion Hood, the eminent criminologist and specialist in certain moral disorders, lay along the sea-front at Scarborough, in a series of very large and well-lighted french windows, which showed the North Sea like one endless outer wall of blue-green marble.