Chapter 3. The Problem
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cessaryformyfriendinthosehoursofintensementalconcentrationduringwhichheweighedeveryparticleofevidence,constructedalternativetheories,balancedoneagainsttheother,andmadeuphismindastowhichpointswereessentialandwhichimmaterial.IthereforespentthedayatmyclubanddidnotreturntoBakerStreetuntilevening.Itwasnearlynineo’clockwhenIfoundmyselfinthesitting-roomoncemore.
MyfirstimpressionasIopenedthedoorwasthatafirehadbrokenout,fortheroomwassofilledwithsmokethatthelightofthelampuponthetablewasblurredbyit.AsIentered,however,myfearsweresetatrest,foritwastheacridfumesofstrongcoarsetobaccowhichtookmebythethroatandsetmecoughing.ThroughthehazeIhadavaguevisionofHolmesinhisdressing-gowncoiledupinanarmchairwithhisblackclaypipebetweenhislips.Severalrollsofpaperlayaroundhim.
“Caughtcold,Watson?”saidhe.
“No,it’sthispoisonousatmosphere.”
“Isupposeitisprettythick,nowthatyoumentionit.”
“Thick!Itisintolerable.”
“Openthewindow,then!Youhavebeenatyourcluballday,Iperceive.”
“MydearHolmes!”
“AmIright?”
“Certainly,buthow?”
Helaughedatmybewilderedexpression.“Thereisadelightfulfreshnessaboutyou,Watson,whichmakesitapleasuretoexerciseanysmallpowerswhichIpossessatyourexpense.Agentlemangoesforthonashoweryandmiryday.Hereturnsimmaculateintheeveningwiththeglossstillonhishatandhisboots.Hehasbeenafixturethereforeallday.Heisnotamanwithintimatefriends.Where,then,couldhehavebeen?Isitnotobvious?”
“Well,itisratherobvious.”
“Theworldisfullofobviousthingswhichnobodybyanychanceeverobserves.WheredoyouthinkthatIhavebeen?”
“Afixturealso.”
“Onthecontrary,IhavebeentoDevonshire.”
“Inspirit?”
“Exactly.Mybodyhasremainedinthisarmchairandhas,Iregrettoobserve,consumedinmyabsencetwolargepotsofcoffeeandanincredibleamountoftobacco.AfteryouleftIsentdowntoStamford’sfortheOrdnancemapofthisportionofthemoor,andmyspirithashoveredoveritallday.IflattermyselfthatIcouldfindmywayabout.”
“Alarge-scalemap,Ipresume?”
“Verylarge.”
Heunrolledonesectionandhelditoverhisknee.“Hereyouhavetheparticulardistrictwhichconcernsus.ThatisBaskervilleHallinthemiddle.”
“Withawoodroundit?”
“Exactly.Ifancytheyewalley,thoughnotmarkedunderthatname,muststretchalongthisline,withthemoor,asyouperceive,upontherightofit.ThissmallclumpofbuildingshereisthehamletofGrimpen,whereourfriendDr.Mortimerhashisheadquarters.Withinaradiusoffivemilesthereare,asyousee,onlyaveryfewscattereddwellings.HereisLafterHall,whichwasmentionedinthenarrative.Thereisahouseindicatedherewhichmaybetheresidenceofthenaturalist—Stapleton,ifIrememberright,washisname.Herearetwomoorlandfarmhouses,HighTorandFoulmire.ThenfourteenmilesawaythegreatconvictprisonofPrincetown.Betweenandaroundthesescatteredpointsextends