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.
With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when
Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door
behind me.
"You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear
Watson," he said cordially.read the short story
Author:
SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE