the adventure of the spotted seven

It can't hurt now. " was Mr. Sherlock Holmes' comment when, for the tenth time in as many years I asked his leave to reveal the following narrative. So it was that at last I obtained permission to put on record what was. in some ways, the supreme moment of my friend's career.

It was the third week of November, in the year 1895. and a dense yellow fog settled down upon London From the Monday to the Thursday it was impossible to see from our windows of 22I-B Baker Street to the loom of the opposite houses. There had been a grisly murder on the first night of the heavy mist, and Holmes had paced anxiously during the day and played his violin at night. I yearned for the glades of the New Forest or the shingle of Southsea.

On this fourth day. when the greasy brown swirl refused to yield. Holmes could stand the inactivity no longer.

"Anything in the paper. Watson?" he said.

He was. of course, referring to the grisly homicide which had taken place on Sunday evening. "Only a repetition of yesterday's piece. wherein it is described how the grotesque act occurred and that there are seven suspects." I replied.

•7 suppose. Watson. u,e musr look upon you as a man of letters." said he. "How do you define the word grotesque7"

"Strange — remarkable." I suggested. He shook his head at my definition.

"There is surely something more than that." said he: ^e un^i^e^^en^ic andthe

<emble. If you cast your mind back to some of those ^^^^¡Se criminal. Think of that suffering public, you will recognize how often the grotesque nas ae y ^ ^ /f ende(] in a desperate little affair of the red-headed men. That was grotesque enough m tne o . u^/cft led attempt at robbery. Or. again, there was that most grotesque affair of straight to a murderous conspiracy. The word puts me on the aten.

• 'hen there are only some small bits of the 7 don t know of what use your musings are. 1 muttered, u ^ yOU matie any attempts to victim in evidence. Of course it is grotesque: what else can o

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