You slur over work of the utmost
finesse and delicacy in order to dwell upon sensational details
which may excite, but cannot possibly instruct, the reader."
"Why do you not write them yourself?" I said, with some bitterness.
"I will, my dear Watson, I will. At present I am, as you know,
fairly busy, but I propose to devote my declining years to the
composition of a text-book which shall focus the whole art of
detection into one volume. Our present research appears to be
a case of murder."
"You think this Sir Eustace is dead, then?"
"I should say so. Hopkins's writing shows considerable
agitation, and he is not an emotional man. Yes, I gather there
has been violence, and that the body is left for our inspection.
A mere suicide would not have caused him to send for me.
As to the release of the lady, it would appear that she has been
locked in her room during the tragedy. We are moving in high life,
Watson; crackling paper, `E.B.' monogram, coat-of-arms,
picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins will live up
to his reputation and that we shall have an interesting
morning. The crime was committed before twelve last night.
Pages:
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460