DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

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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 the fringe of her jacket. "I met him first at the gasfitters'
ball," she said. "They used to send father tickets when he was alive,
and then afterwards they remembered us, and sent them to mother. Mr.
Windibank did not wish us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere.
He would get quite mad if I wanted so much as to join a Sunday-school
treat. But this time I was set on going, and I would go; for what
right had he to prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to
know, when all father's friends were to be there. And he said that I
had nothing fit to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never
so much as taken out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else would
do, he went off to France upon the business of the firm, but we went,
mother and I, with Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it was
there I met Mr. Hosmer Angel."

"I suppose," said Holmes, "that when Mr. Windibank came back from
France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball."

"Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and
shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying anything to
a woman, for she would have her way."

"I see. Then at the gasfitters' ball you met, as I understand, a
gentleman called Mr. Hosmer Angel."

"Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called next day to ask if we
had got home all safe, and after that we met him--that is to say, Mr.
Holmes, I met him twice for walks, but after that father came back
again, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to the house any more."

"No?"

"Well, you know father didn't like anything of the sort. He wouldn't
have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to say that a
woman should be happy in her own family circle. But then, as I used
to say to mother, a woman wants her own circle to begin with, and I
had not got mine yet."

"But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Did he make no attempt to see you?"

"Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer
wrote and said that it would be safer and better not to see each
other until he had gone. We could write in the meantime, and he used
to write every day. I took the letters in in the morning, so there
was no need for father to know."

"Were you engaged to the gentleman at this time?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after the first walk that we
took. Hosmer--Mr. Angel--was a cashier in an office in Leadenhall
Street--and--"

"What office?"

"That's the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don't know."

"Where did he live, then?"

"He slept on the premises."

"And you don't know his address?"

"No--except that it was Leadenhall Street."

"Where did you address your letters, then?"

"To the Leadenhall Street Post Office, to be left till called for. He
said that if they were sent to the office he would be chaffed by all
the other clerks about having letters from a lady, so I offered to
typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn't have that, for he
said that when I wrote them they seemed to come from me, but when
they were typewritten he always felt that the machine had come
between us. That will just show you how fond he was of me, Mr.
Holmes, and the little things that he would think of."

"It was most suggestive," said Holmes. "It has long been an axiom of
mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. Can
you remember any other little things about Mr. Hosmer Angel?"

"He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would rather walk with me in
the evening than in the daylight, for he said that he hated to be
conspicuous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even his voice was
gentle. He'd had the quinsy and swollen glands when he was young, he
told me, and it had left him with a weak throat, and a hesitating,
whispering fashion of speech. He was always well dressed, very neat
and plain, but his eyes were weak, just as mine are, and he wore
tinted glasses against the glare."

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 the fringe of her jacket. "I met him first at the gasfitters'

ball," she said. "They used to send father tickets when he was alive,

and then afterwards they remembered us, and sent them to mother. Mr.

Windibank did not wish us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere.

He would get quite mad if I wanted so much as to join a Sunday-school

treat. But this time I was set on going, and I would go; for what

right had he to prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to

know, when all father's friends were to be there. And he said that I

had nothing fit to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never

so much as taken out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else would

do, he went off to France upon the business of the firm, but we went,

mother and I, with Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it was

there I met Mr. Hosmer Angel."

"I suppose," said Holmes, "that when Mr. Windibank came back from

France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball."

"Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and

shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying anything to

a woman, for she would have her way."

"I see. Then at the gasfitters' ball you met, as I understand, a

gentleman called Mr. Hosmer Angel."

"Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called next day to ask if we

had got home all safe, and after that we met him--that is to say, Mr.

Holmes, I met him twice for walks, but after that father came back

again, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to the house any more."

"No?"

"Well, you know father didn't like anything of the sort. He wouldn't

have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to say that a

woman should be happy in her own family circle. But then, as I used

to say to mother, a woman wants her own circle to begin with, and I

had not got mine yet."

"But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Did he make no attempt to see you?"

"Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer

wrote and said that it would be safer and better not to see each

other until he had gone. We could write in the meantime, and he used

to write every day. I took the letters in in the morning, so there

was no need for father to know."

"Were you engaged to the gentleman at this time?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after the first walk that we

took. Hosmer--Mr. Angel--was a cashier in an office in Leadenhall

Street--and--"

"What office?"

"That's the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don't know."

"Where did he live, then?"

"He slept on the premises."

"And you don't know his address?"

"No--except that it was Leadenhall Street."

"Where did you address your letters, then?"

"To the Leadenhall Street Post Office, to be left till called for. He

said that if they were sent to the office he would be chaffed by all

the other clerks about having letters from a lady, so I offered to

typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn't have that, for he

said that when I wrote them they seemed to come from me, but when

they were typewritten he always felt that the machine had come

between us. That will just show you how fond he was of me, Mr.

Holmes, and the little things that he would think of."

"It was most suggestive," said Holmes. "It has long been an axiom of

mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. Can

you remember any other little things about Mr. Hosmer Angel?"

"He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would rather walk with me in

the evening than in the daylight, for he said that he hated to be

conspicuous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even his voice was

gentle. He'd had the quinsy and swollen glands when he was young, he

told me, and it had left him with a weak throat, and a hesitating,

whispering fashion of speech. He was always well dressed, very neat

and plain, but his eyes were weak, just as mine are, and he wore

tinted glasses against the glare."