“Tothemanwholovesartforitsownsake,”remarkedSherlockHolmes,tossingasidetheadvertisementsheetofTheDailyTelegraph,“itisfrequentlyinitsleastimportantandlowliestmanifestationsthatthekeenestpleasureistobederived.Itispleasanttometoobserve,Watson,thatyouhavesofargraspedthistruththatintheselittlerecordsofourcaseswhichyouhavebeengoodenoughtodrawup,and,Iamboundtosay,occasionallytoembellish,youhavegivenprominencenotsomuchtothemanycausescélèbresandsensationaltrialsinwhichIhavefiguredbutrathertothoseincidentswhichmayhavebeentrivialinthemselves,butwhichhavegivenroomforthosefacultiesofdeductionandoflogicalsynthesiswhichIhavemademyspecialprovince.”
“Andyet,”saidI,smiling,“Icannotquiteholdmyselfabsolvedfromthechargeofsensationalismwhichhasbeenurgedagainstmyrecords.”
“Youhaveerred,perhaps,”heobserved,takingupaglowingcinderwiththetongsandlightingwithitthelongcherry-woodpipewhichwaswonttoreplacehisclaywhenhewasinadisputatiousratherthanameditativemood—“youhaveerredperhapsinattemptingtoputcolourandlifeintoeachofyourstatementsinsteadofconfiningyourselftothetaskofplacinguponrecordthatseverereasoningfromcausetoeffectwhichisreallytheonlynotablefeatureaboutthething.”
“ItseemstomethatIhavedoneyoufulljusticeinthematter,”Iremarkedwithsomecoldness,forIwasrepelledbytheegotismwhichIhadmorethanonceobservedtobeastrongfactorinmyfriend’ssingularcharacter.
“No,itisnotselfishnessorconceit,”saidhe,answering,aswashiswont,mythoughtsratherthanmywords.“IfIclaimfulljusticeformyart,itisbecauseitisanimpersonalthing—athingbeyondmyself.Crimeiscommon.Logicisrare.Thereforeitisuponthelogicratherthanuponthecrimethatyoushoulddwell.Youhavedegradedwhatshouldhavebeenacourseoflecturesintoaseriesoftales.”
Itwasacoldmorningoftheearlyspring,andwesatafterbreakfastoneithersideofacheeryfireintheoldroomatBakerStreet.Athickfogrolleddownbetweenthelinesofdun-colouredhouses,andtheopposingwindowsloomedlikedark,shapelessblursthroughtheheavyyellowwreaths.Ourgaswaslitandshoneonthewhiteclothandglimmerofchinaandmetal,forthetablehadnotbeenclearedyet.SherlockHolmeshadbeensilentallthemorning,dippingcontinuouslyintotheadvertisementcolumnsofasuccessionofpapersuntilatlast,havingapparentlygivenuphissearch,hehademergedinnoverysweettempertolecturemeuponmyliteraryshortcomings.
“Atthesametime,”heremarkedafterapause,duringwhichhehadsatpuffingathislongpipeandgazingdownintothefire,“youcanhardlybeopentoachargeofsensationalism,foroutofthesecaseswhichyouhavebeensokindastointerestyourselfin,afairproportiondonottreatofcrime,initslegalsense,atall.ThesmallmatterinwhichIendeavouredtohelptheKingofBohemia,thesingularexperienceofMissMarySutherland,theproblemconnectedwiththemanwiththetwistedlip,andtheincidentofthenoblebachelor,wereallmatterswhichareoutsidethepaleofthelaw.Butinavoidingthesensational,Ifearthatyoumayhaveborderedonthetrivial.”
“Theendmayhavebeenso,”Ianswered,“butthemethodsIholdtohavebeennovelandofinterest.”
“Pshaw,mydearfellow,whatdothepublic,thegreatunobservantpublic,whocouldhardlytellaweaverbyhistoothoracompositorbyhisleftthumb,careaboutthefinershadesofanalysisanddeduction!But,indeed,ifyouaretrivial,Icannotblameyou,forthedaysofthegreatcasesarepast.Man,oratleastcriminalman,haslostallenterpriseandoriginality.Astomyownlittlepractice,itseemstobedegeneratingintoanagencyforrecoveringlostleadpencilsandgivingadvicetoyoungladiesfromboarding-schools.IthinkthatIhavetouchedbottomatlast,however.ThisnoteIhadthismorningmarksmyzero-point,Ifancy.Readit!”Hetossedacrumpledletteracrosstome.
ItwasdatedfromMontaguePlaceupontheprecedingevening,andranthus:
“DEARMR.HOLMES,—IamveryanxioustoconsultyouastowhetherIshouldorshouldnotacceptasituationwhichhasbeenofferedtomeasgoverness.Ishallcallathalf-pasttento-morrowifIdonotinconvenienceyou.Yoursfaithfully,
“VIOLETHUNTER.”
“Doyouknowtheyounglady?”Iasked.
“NotI.”
“Itishalf-pasttennow.”
“Yes,andIhavenodoubtthatisherring.”
“Itmayturnouttobeofmoreinterestthanyouthink.Yourememberthattheaffairofthebluecarbuncle,whichappearedtobeamerewhimatfirst,developedintoaseriousinvestigation.Itmaybesointhiscase,also.”
“Well,letushopeso.Butourdoubtswillverysoonbesolved,forhere,unlessIammuchmistaken,isthepersoninquestion.”
Ashespokethedooropenedandayoungladyenteredtheroom.Shewasplainlybutneatlydressed,withabright,quickface,freckledlikeaplover’segg,andwiththebriskmannerofawomanwhohashadherownwaytomakeintheworld