You should visit Browse Happy and update your internet browser today! And this not so much for the sake of his reputation—for, indeed, it was when he was at his wits’ end that his energy and his versatility were most admirable—but because where he failed it happened too often that no one else succeeded, and that the tale was left forever without a conclusion.
By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Plot The Characters of the Story The Adventures of the Yellow Face written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle is a Sherlock Holmes story that deals. The Adventure of a Yellow Face.
Now and again, however, it chanced that even when he erred, the truth was still discovered. I have noted of some half- dozen cases of the kind; the Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual and that which I am about to recount are the two which present the strongest features of interest.
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- Passage PDF; Student Activity; APA. Adventure 2: “The Yellow Face”. The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (Lit2Go Edition). Retrieved September 17.
- Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes Author: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Release Date: March, 1997 .
- THE ADVENTURE OF THE YELLOW FACE WIKIPEDIA THE FREE .
- Sherlock Holmes And The Adventure Of The Yellow Face. We furnish utter variation of this book in txt.
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Few men were capable of greater muscular effort, and he was undoubtedly one of the finest boxers of his weight that I have ever seen; but he looked upon aimless bodily exertion as a waste of energy, and he seldom bestirred himself save when there was some professional object to be served. Then he was absolutely untiring and indefatigable. That he should have kept himself in training under such circumstances is remarkable, but his diet was usually of the sparest, and his habits were simple to the verge of austerity.
Save for the occasional use of cocaine, he had no vices, and he only turned to the drug as a protest against the monotony of existence when cases were scanty and the papers uninteresting. For two hours we rambled about together, in silence for the most part, as befits two men who know each other intimately. It was nearly five before we were back in Baker Street once more. He was a very restless gentleman, sir, a- walkin’ and a- stampin’ all the time he was here. I was waitin’ outside the door, sir, and I could hear him.
At last he outs into the passage, and he cries, . I was badly in need of a case, and this looks, from the man’s impatience, as if it were of importance. That’s not your pipe on the table. He must have left his behind him.
A nice old brier with a good long stem of what the tobacconists call amber. I wonder how many real amber mouthpieces there are in London? Some people think that a fly in it is a sign. Well, he must have been disturbed in his mind to leave a pipe behind him which he evidently values highly.”. How do you know that he values it highly?” I asked.
Now it has, you see, been twice mended, once in the wooden stem and once in the amber. Each of these mends, done, as you observe, with silver bands, must have cost more than the pipe did originally.
The man must value the pipe highly when he prefers to patch it up rather than buy a new one with the same money.”. Anything else?” I asked, for Holmes was turning the pipe about in his hand, and staring at it in his peculiar pensive way. The indications here, however, are neither very marked nor very important. The owner is obviously a muscular man, left- handed, with an excellent set of teeth, careless in his habits, and with no need to practise economy.”. My friend threw out the information in a very offhand way, but I saw that he cocked his eye at me to see if I had followed his reasoning.
You can see that it is quite charred all down one side. Of course a match could not have done that. Why should a man hold a match to the side of his pipe? But you cannot light it at a lamp without getting the bowl charred. And it is all on the right side of the pipe. From that I gather that he is a left- handed man.
You hold your own pipe to the lamp, and see how naturally you, being right- handed, hold the left side to the flame. You might do it once the other way, but not as a constancy. This has always been held so.
Then he has bitten through his amber. It takes a muscular, energetic fellow, and one with a good set of teeth, to do that. But if I am not mistaken I hear him upon the stair, so we shall have something more interesting than his pipe to study.”. An instant later our door opened, and a tall young man entered the room.
He was well but quietly dressed in a dark- gray suit, and carried a brown wide- awake in his hand. I should have put him at about thirty, though he was really some years older.
Yes, of course I should have knocked. The fact is that I am a little upset, and you must put it all down to that.” He passed his hand over his forehead like a man who is half dazed, and then fell rather than sat down upon a chair. May I ask how I can help you?”. I wanted your advice, sir. I don’t know what to do and my whole life seems to have gone to pieces.”. You wish to employ me as a consulting detective?”. Not that only. I want your opinion as a judicious man—as a man of the world.
I want to know what I ought to do next. I hope to God you’ll be able to tell me.”. He spoke in little, sharp, jerky outbursts, and it seemed to me that to speak at all was very painful to him, and that his will all through was overriding his inclinations.
It seems dreadful to discuss the conduct of one’s wife with two men whom I have never seen before. It’s horrible to have to do it. But I’ve got to the end of my tether, and I must have advice.”. My dear Mr. Grant Munro—” began Holmes. I was about to say that my friend and I have listened to a good many strange secrets in this room, and that we have had the good fortune to bring peace to many troubled souls. I trust that we may do as much for you. Might I beg you, as time may prove to be of importance, to furnish me with the facts of your case without further delay?”.
Our visitor again passed his hand over his forehead, as if he found it bitterly hard. From every gesture and expression I could see that he was a reserved, self- contained man, with a dash of pride in his nature, more likely to hide his wounds than to expose them. Then suddenly, with a fierce gesture of his closed hand, like one who throws reserve to the winds, he began.
During that time my wife and I have loved each other as fondly and lived as happily as any two that ever were joined. We have not had a difference, not one, in thought or word or deed.
And now, since last Monday, there has suddenly sprung up a barrier between us, and I find that there is something in her life and in her thought of which I know as little as if she were the woman who brushes by me in the street. We are estranged, and I want to know why. Don’t let there be any mistake about that. She loves me with her whole heart and soul, and never more than now. I don’t want to argue about that.
A man can tell easily enough when a woman loves him. But there’s this secret between us, and we can never be the same until it is cleared.”. Kindly let me have the facts, Mr. Munro,” said Holmes, with some impatience. She was a widow when I met her first, though quite young—only twenty- five.
Her name then was Mrs. She went out to America when she was young, and lived in the town of Atlanta, where she married this Hebron, who was a lawyer with a good practice. They had one child, but the yellow fever broke out badly in the place, and both husband and child died of it. I have seen his death certificate.
This sickened her of America, and she came back to live with a maiden aunt at Pinner, in Middlesex. I may mention that her husband had left her comfortably off, and that she had a capital of about four thousand five hundred pounds, which had been so well invested by him that it returned an average of seven per cent. She had only been six months at Pinner when I met her; we fell in love with each other, and we married a few weeks afterwards. Our little place was very countrified, considering that it is so close to town. We had an inn and two houses a little above us, and a single cottage at the other side of the field which faces us, and except those there were no houses until you got half way to the station.
My business took me into town at certain seasons, but in summer I had less to do, and then in our country home my wife and I were just as happy as could be wished. I tell you that there never was a shadow between us until this accursed affair began. When we married, my wife made over all her property to me—rather against my will, for I saw how awkward it would be if my business affairs went wrong. However, she would have it so, and it was done. Well, about six weeks ago she came to me.
I gave her a check, and I never thought any more of the matter. It may have nothing to do with what came afterwards, but I thought it only right to mention it.
There is just a field between us, but to reach it you have to go along the road and then turn down a lane. Just beyond it is a nice little grove of Scotch firs, and I used to be very fond of strolling down there, for trees are always a neighborly kind of things. The cottage had been standing empty this eight months, and it was a pity, for it was a pretty two- storied place, with an old- fashioned porch and honeysuckle about it. I have stood many a time and thought what a neat little homestead it would make. It was clear that the cottage had at last been let. I walked past it, and wondered what sort of folk they were who had come to live so near us.
And as I looked I suddenly became aware that a face was watching me out of one of the upper windows. Holmes, but it seemed to send a chill right down my back. I was some little way off, so that I could not make out the features, but there was something unnatural and inhuman about the face. That was the impression that I had, and I moved quickly forwards to get a nearer view of the person who was watching me. But as I did so the face suddenly disappeared, so suddenly that it seemed to have been plucked away into the darkness of the room. I stood for five minutes thinking the business over, and trying to analyze my impressions. I could not tell if the face were that of a man or a woman.
It had been too far from me for that. But its color was what had impressed me most. It was of a livid chalky white, and with something set and rigid about it which was shockingly unnatural. So disturbed was I that I determined to see a little more of the new inmates of the cottage.
I approached and knocked at the door, which was instantly opened by a tall, gaunt woman with a harsh, forbidding face.