Our client, however, stared in amazement.
"Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes, and in addition I am the most
unfortunate man at this moment in London. For Heaven's sake
don't abandon me, Mr. Holmes! If they come to arrest me before
I have finished my story, make them give me time so that I may
tell you the whole truth. I could go to gaol happy if I knew
that you were working for me outside."
"Arrest you!" said Holmes. "This is really most grati -- most
interesting. On what charge do you expect to be arrested?"
"Upon the charge of murdering Mr. Jonas Oldacre, of Lower Norwood."
My companion's expressive face showed a sympathy which was not,
I am afraid, entirely unmixed with satisfaction.
"Dear me," said he; "it was only this moment at breakfast that
I was saying to my friend, Dr. Watson, that sensational cases had
disappeared out of our papers."
Our visitor stretched forward a quivering hand and picked up the
DAILY TELEGRAPH, which still lay upon Holmes's knee.
"If you had looked at it, sir, you would have seen at a glance
what the errand is on which I have come to you this morning.
I feel as if my name and my misfortune must be in every man's
mouth.
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