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III.The Yellow Face

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    therthanbuyanewonewiththesamemoney.” “Anythingelse?”Iasked,forHolmeswasturningthepipeaboutinhishand,andstaringatitinhispeculiarpensiveway. Hehelditupandtappedonitwithhislong,thinfore-finger,asaprofessormightwhowaslecturingonabone. “Pipesareoccasionallyofextraordinaryinterest,”saidhe.“Nothinghasmoreindividuality,saveperhapswatchesandbootlaces.Theindicationshere,however,areneitherverymarkednorveryimportant.Theownerisobviouslyamuscularman,left-handed,withanexcellentsetofteeth,carelessinhishabits,andwithnoneedtopractiseeconomy.” Myfriendthrewouttheinformationinaveryoffhandway,butIsawthathecockedhiseyeatmetoseeifIhadfollowedhisreasoning. “Youthinkamanmustbewell-to-doifhesmokesaseven-shillingpipe,”saidI. “ThisisGrosvenormixtureateightpenceanounce,”Holmesanswered,knockingalittleoutonhispalm.“Ashemightgetanexcellentsmokeforhalftheprice,hehasnoneedtopractiseeconomy.” “Andtheotherpoints?” “Hehasbeeninthehabitoflightinghispipeatlampsandgas-jets.Youcanseethatitisquitecharredalldownoneside.Ofcourseamatchcouldnothavedonethat.Whyshouldamanholdamatchtothesideofhispipe?Butyoucannotlightitatalampwithoutgettingthebowlcharred.Anditisallontherightsideofthepipe.FromthatIgatherthatheisaleft-handedman.Youholdyourownpipetothelamp,andseehownaturallyyou,beingright-handed,holdtheleftsidetotheflame.Youmightdoitoncetheotherway,butnotasaconstancy.Thishasalwaysbeenheldso.Thenhehasbittenthroughhisamber.Ittakesamuscular,energeticfellow,andonewithagoodsetofteeth,todothat.ButifIamnotmistakenIhearhimuponthestair,soweshallhavesomethingmoreinterestingthanhispipetostudy.” Aninstantlaterourdooropened,andatallyoungmanenteredtheroom.Hewaswellbutquietlydressedinadark-greysuit,andcarriedabrownwide-awakeinhishand.Ishouldhaveputhimataboutthirty,thoughhewasreallysomeyearsolder. “Ibegyourpardon,”saidhe,withsomeembarrassment“IsupposeIshouldhaveknocked.Yes,ofcourseIshouldhaveknocked.ThefactisthatIamalittleupset,andyoumustputitalldowntothat.”Hepassedhishandoverhisforeheadlikeamanwhoishalfdazed,andthenfellratherthansatdownuponachair. “Icanseethatyouhavenotsleptforanightortwo,”saidHolmes,inhiseasy,genialway.“Thattriesaman’snervesmorethanwork,andmoreeventhanpleasure.MayIaskhowIcanhelpyou?” “Iwantedyouradvice,sir.Idon’tknowwhattodoandmywholelifeseemstohavegonetopieces.” “Youwishtoemploymeasaconsultingdetective?” “Notthatonly.Iwantyouropinionasajudiciousman—asamanoftheworld.IwanttoknowwhatIoughttodonext.IhopetoGodyou’llbeabletotellme.” Hespokeinlittle,sharp,jerkyoutbursts,anditseemedtomethattospeakatallwasverypainfultohim,andthathiswillallthroughwasoverridinghisinclinations. “It’saverydelicatething,”saidhe.“Onedoesnotliketospeakofone’sdomesticaffairstostrangers.Itseemsdreadfultodiscusstheconductofone’swifewithtwomenwhomIhaveneverseenbefore.It’shorribletohavetodoit.ButI’vegottotheendofmytether,andImusthaveadvice.” “MydearMr.GrantMunro—”beganHolmes. Ourvisitorsprangfromhischair.“What!”hecried,“youknowmyname?” “Ifyouwishtopreserveyourincognito,”saidHolmes,smiling,“Iwouldsuggestthatyouceasetowriteyournameupontheliningofyourhat,orelsethatyouturnthecrowntowardsthepersonwhomyouareaddressing.IwasabouttosaythatmyfriendandIhavelistenedtoagoodmanyst
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