As he held out his hand to Holmes
I perceived that it also was stained yellow with nicotine.
"A smoker, Mr. Holmes?" said he, speaking well-chosen English
with a curious little mincing accent. "Pray take a cigarette.
And you, sir? I can recommend them, for I have them
especially prepared by Ionides of Alexandria. He sends me a
thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that I have to arrange
for a fresh supply every fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad, but an
old man has few pleasures. Tobacco and my work -- that is all
that is left to me."
Holmes had lit a cigarette, and was shooting little darting
glances all over the room.
"Tobacco and my work, but now only tobacco," the old man exclaimed.
"Alas! what a fatal interruption! Who could have foreseen such a
terrible catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that
after a few months' training he was an admirable assistant.
What do you think of the matter, Mr. Holmes?"
"I have not yet made up my mind."
"I shall indeed be indebted to you if you can throw a light
where all is so dark to us. To a poor bookworm and invalid like
myself such a blow is paralyzing.
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