"It's getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes," said he,
as he sank, like a wearied man, into an arm-chair. "It's bad
enough to feel that you are surrounded by unseen, unknown folk,
who have some kind of design upon you; but when, in addition to
that, you know that it is just killing your wife by inches, then
it becomes as much as flesh and blood can endure. She's wearing
away under it -- just wearing away before my eyes."
"Has she said anything yet?"
"No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been times
when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could not quite
bring herself to take the plunge. I have tried to help her;
but I dare say I did it clumsily, and scared her off from it.
She has spoken about my old family, and our reputation in the county,
and our pride in our unsullied honour, and I always felt it was
leading to the point; but somehow it turned off before we got there."
"But you have found out something for yourself?"
"A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancing men
pictures for you to examine, and, what is more important,
I have seen the fellow."
"What, the man who draws them?"
"Yes, I saw him at his work.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116