DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74

"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this in
it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a
wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin shoes and a
bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked in water.
"There," said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of the
pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, Master Holmes."

"Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. "You
dragged them from the Serpentine?"

"No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. They
have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the
clothes were there the body would not be far off."

"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found in
the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to
arrive at through this?"

"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance."

"I am afraid that you will find it difficult."

"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "I am
afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your deductions
and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as many minutes.
This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar."

"And how?"

"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the
card-case is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped it down
upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this:

"'You will see me when all is ready. Come at once.
"'F.H.M.'

Now my theory all along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away
by Flora Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was
responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her initials, is
the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped into her hand at the
door and which lured her within their reach."

"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are very
fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a listless way,
but his attention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry
of satisfaction. "This is indeed important," said he.

"Ha! you find it so?"

"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly."

Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," he
shrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side!"

"On the contrary, this is the right side."

"The right side? You're mad! Here is the note written in pencil over
here."

"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel bill,
which interests me deeply."

"There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade.

"'Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s.
6d., glass sherry, 8d.' I see nothing in that."

"Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note,
it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate
you again."

"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in hard
work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day,
Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter
first." He gathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and
made for the door.

"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rival
vanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St.
Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any such
person."

Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tapped
his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried away.

He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on his
overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about outdoor
work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must leave you to
your papers for a little."

It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had no
time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a confectioner's
man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked with the help of a
youth whom he had brought with him, and presently, to my very great
astonishment, a quite epicurean little cold supper began to be laid
out upon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of
brace of cold woodcock, a pheasant, a pâté de foie gras pie with a
group of ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these
luxuries, my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the

"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this in

it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a

wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin shoes and a

bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked in water.

"There," said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of the

pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, Master Holmes."

"Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. "You

dragged them from the Serpentine?"

"No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. They

have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the

clothes were there the body would not be far off."

"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found in

the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to

arrive at through this?"

"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance."

"I am afraid that you will find it difficult."

"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "I am

afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your deductions

and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as many minutes.

This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar."

"And how?"

"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the

card-case is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped it down

upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this:

"'You will see me when all is ready. Come at once.

"'F.H.M.'

Now my theory all along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away

by Flora Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was

responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her initials, is

the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped into her hand at the

door and which lured her within their reach."

"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are very

fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a listless way,

but his attention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry

of satisfaction. "This is indeed important," said he.

"Ha! you find it so?"

"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly."

Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," he

shrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side!"

"On the contrary, this is the right side."

"The right side? You're mad! Here is the note written in pencil over

here."

"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel bill,

which interests me deeply."

"There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade.

"'Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s.

6d., glass sherry, 8d.' I see nothing in that."

"Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note,

it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate

you again."

"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in hard

work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day,

Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter

first." He gathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and

made for the door.

"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rival

vanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St.

Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any such

person."

Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tapped

his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried away.

He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on his

overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about outdoor

work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must leave you to

your papers for a little."

It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had no

time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a confectioner's

man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked with the help of a

youth whom he had brought with him, and presently, to my very great

astonishment, a quite epicurean little cold supper began to be laid

out upon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of

brace of cold woodcock, a pheasant, a pâté de foie gras pie with a

group of ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these

luxuries, my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the