He stood beside me in silence, his candle in his hand. Then the tall, lean figure inclined towards me. “I say, Watson,” he whispered, “would you be afraid to sleep in the same room with a lunatic, a man with softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?”
“Not in the least,” I answered in astonishment.
“Ah, that’s lucky,” he said, and not another word would he utter that night.
I’ve even had ladies writing to say that they’d be very glad to act as his housekeeper. One of them when she’d heard that he’d turned to the occupation of keeping bees wrote saying that she was an expert at segregating the queen, whatever that may mean
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle about how people was convinced Sherlock Holmes really existed (x)
There’s an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it’s God’s own wind none the less and a cleaner, better stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared.
Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said Stamford, introducing us.
“How are you?” he said cordially, gripping my hand with a strength for which I should hardly have given him credit. “You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.”
“How on earth did you know that?” I asked in astonishment.
From bottom to top:
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s answer to a critic, Mark Gatiss’s response to The Guardian’s commentary, and the New York Times’s opinion of the facts.
I really admire Mark, he is one of those coming to change the world, one of those coming to raise the bar.
“There are no crimes and no criminals in these days,” he said, querulously. “What is the use of having brains in our profession? I know well that I have it in me to make my name famous. No man lives or has ever lived who has brought the same amount of study and of natural talent to the detection of crime which I have done. And what is the result? There is no crime to detect, or, at most, some bungling villany with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland Yard official can see through it.”
And later, when there is a crime:
“Surely there is
not a moment to be lost,” I cried, “shall I go and order you a cab?” “I’m not sure about whether I shall go. I am the most incurably lazy
devil that ever stood in shoe leather—that is, when the fit is on me,
for I can be spry enough at times.” “Why, it is just such a chance as you have been longing for.” “My dear fellow, what does it matter to me. Supposing I unravel the
whole matter, you may be sure that Gregson, Lestrade, and Co. will
pocket all the credit. That comes of being an unofficial personage.” “But he begs you to help him.” “Yes. He knows that I am his superior, and acknowledges it to me; but
he would cut his tongue out before he would own it to any third person.
However, we may as well go and have a look. I shall work it out on my
own hook. I may have a laugh at them if I have nothing else. Come on!”
I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in.