"Thank you. And your address?"
"No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell."
"Mr. Angel's address you never had, I understand. Where is yourfather's place of business?"
"He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great claret importersof Fenchurch Street."
"Thank you. You have made your statement very clearly. You willleave the papers here, and remember the advice which I have givenyou. Let the whole incident be a sealed book, and do not allow itto affect your life."
"You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall betrue to Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back."
For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face, there wassomething noble in the simple faith of our visitor whichcompelled our respect. She laid her little bundle of papers uponthe table and went her way, with a promise to come again whenevershe might be summoned.
Sherlock Holmes sat silent for a few minutes with his fingertipsstill pressed together, his legs stretched out in front of him,and his gaze directed upward to the ceiling. Then he took downfrom the rack the old and oily clay pipe, which was to him as acounsellor, and, having lit it, he leaned back in his chair, withthe thick blue cloud-wreaths spinning up from him, and a look ofinfinite languor in his face.
"Quite an interesting study, that maiden," he observed. "I foundher more interesting than her little problem, which, by the way,is rather a trite one. You will find parallel cases, if youconsult my index, in Andover in '77, and there was something ofthe sort at The Hague last year. Old as is the idea, however,there were one or two details which were new to me. But themaiden herself was most instructive."
"You appeared to read a good deal upon her which was quiteinvisible to me," I remarked.
"Not invisible but unnoticed, Watson. You did not know where tolook, and so you missed all that was important. I can never bringyou to realise the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness ofthumb-nails, or the great issues that may hang from a boot-lace.Now, what did you gather from that woman's appearance? Describeit."
"Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat, with afeather of a brickish red. Her jacket was black, with black beadssewn upon it, and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Herdress was brown, rather darker than coffee colour, with a littlepurple plush at the neck and sleeves. Her gloves were greyish andwere worn through at the right forefinger. Her boots I didn'tobserve. She had small round, hanging gold earrings, and ageneral air of being fairly well-to-do in a vulgar, comfortable,easy-going way."
Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together and chuckled.
"'Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. You havereally done very well indeed. It is true that you have missedeverything of importance, but you have hit upon the method, andyou have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to generalimpressions, my boy, but concentrate yourself upon details. Myfirst glance is always at a woman's sleeve. In a man it isperhaps better first to take the knee of the trouser. As youobserve, this woman had plush upon her sleeves, which is a mostuseful material for showing traces. The double line a littleabove the wrist, where the typewritist presses against the table,was beautifully defined. The sewing-machine, of the hand type,leaves a similar mark, but only on the left arm, and on the sideof it farthest from the thumb, instead of being right across thebroadest part, as this was. I then glanced at her face, and,observing the dint of a pince-nez at either side of her nose, Iventured a remark upon short sight and typewriting, which seemedto surprise her."
"It surprised me."
"But, surely, it was obvious. I was then much surprised andinterested on glancing down to observe that, though the bootswhich she was wearing were not unlike each other, they werereally odd ones; the one having a slightly decorated toe-cap, andthe other a plain one. One was buttoned only in the two lowerbuttons out of five, and the other at the first, third, andfifth. Now, when you see that a young lady, otherwise neatlydressed, has come away from home with odd boots, half-buttoned,it is no great deduction to say that she came away in a hurry."
"And what else?" I asked, keenly interested, as I always was, bymy friend's incisive reasoning.
"I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leavinghome but after being fully dressed. You observed that her rightglove was torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently seethat both glove and finger were stained with violet ink. She hadwritten in a hurry and dipped her pen too deep. It must have beenthis morning, or the mark would not remain clear upon the finger.All this is amusing, though rather elementary, but I must go backto business, Watson. Would you mind reading me the advertiseddescription of Mr. Hosmer Angel?"
I held the little printed slip to the light.
"Missing," it said, "on the morning of the fourteenth, a gentlemannamed Hosmer Angel. About five ft. seven in. in height;strongly built, sallow complexion, black hair, a little bald inthe centre, bushy, black side-whiskers and moustache; tintedglasses, slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed, when last seen,in black frock-coat faced with silk, black waistcoat, gold Albertchain, and grey Harris tweed trousers, with brown gaiters overelastic-sided boots. Known to have been employed in an office inLeadenhall Street. Anybody bringing--"
"That will do," said Holmes. "As to the letters," he continued,glancing over them, "they are very commonplace. Absolutely noclue in them to Mr. Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. Thereis one remarkable point, however, which will no doubt strikeyou."
"They are typewritten," I remarked.
"Not only that, but the signature is typewritten. Look at theneat little 'Hosmer Angel' at the bottom. There is a date, yousee, but no superscription except Leadenhall Street, which israther vague. The point about the signature is very suggestive--infact, we may call it conclusive."
"Of what?"
"My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how strongly itbears upon the case?"
"I cannot say that I do unless it were that he wished to be ableto deny his signature if an action for breach of promise wereinstituted."
"No, that was not the point. However, I shall write two letters,which should settle the matter. One is to a firm in the City, theother is to the young lady's stepfather, Mr. Windibank, askinghim whether he could meet us here at six o'clock tomorrowevening. It is just as well that we should do business with themale relatives. And now, Doctor, we can do nothing until theanswers to those letters come, so we may put our little problemupon the shelf for the interim."
I had had so many reasons to believe in my friend's subtle powersof reasoning and extraordinary energy in action that I felt thathe must have some solid grounds for the assured and easydemeanour with which he treated the singular mystery which he hadbeen called upon to fathom. Once only had I known him to fail, inthe case of the King of Bohemia and of the Irene Adlerphotograph; but when I looked back to the weird business of theSign of Four, and the extraordinary circumstances connected withthe Study in Scarlet, I felt that it would be
a strange tangleindeed which he could not unravel.
I left him then, still puffing at his black clay pipe, with theconviction that when I came again on the next evening I wouldfind that he held in his hands all the clues which would lead upto the identity of the disappearing bridegroom of Miss MarySutherland.