| PART I.
2. CHAPTER II.  THE SCIENCE OF DEDUCTION.
 WE met next day as he had arranged, and inspected the rooms 
 at No. 221B, Baker Street, of which he had spoken at our 
 meeting.  They consisted of a couple of comfortable bed-rooms 
 and a single large airy sitting-room, cheerfully furnished, 
 and illuminated by two broad windows.  So desirable in every 
 way were the apartments, and so moderate did the terms seem 
 when divided between us, that the bargain was concluded upon 
 the spot, and we at once entered into possession.  That very 
 evening I moved my things round from the hotel, and on the 
 following morning Sherlock Holmes followed me with several 
 boxes and portmanteaus.  For a day or two we were busily 
 employed in unpacking and laying out our property to the best 
 advantage.  That done, we gradually began to settle down and 
 to accommodate ourselves to our new surroundings. Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with.  
 He was quiet in his ways, and his habits were regular.  
 It was rare for him to be up after ten at night, and he had 
 invariably breakfasted and gone out before I rose in the 
 morning.  Sometimes he spent his day at the chemical 
 laboratory, sometimes in the dissecting-rooms, and 
 occasionally in long walks, which appeared to take him into 
 the lowest portions of the City.  Nothing could exceed his 
 energy when the working fit was upon him; but now and again 
 a reaction would seize him, and for days on end he would lie 
 upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or 
 moving a muscle from morning to night.  On these occasions 
 I have noticed such a dreamy, vacant expression in his eyes, 
 that I might have suspected him of being addicted to the use 
 of some narcotic, had not the temperance and cleanliness of 
 his whole life forbidden such a notion. As the weeks went by, my interest in him and my curiosity 
 as to his aims in life, gradually deepened and increased.  
 His very person and appearance were such as to strike the 
 attention of the most casual observer.  In height he was 
 rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed 
 to be considerably taller.  His eyes were sharp and piercing, 
 save during those intervals of torpor to which I have alluded; 
 and his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an air 
 of alertness and decision.  His chin, too, had the prominence 
 and squareness which mark the man of determination.  His hands 
 were invariably blotted with ink and stained with chemicals, 
 yet he was possessed of extraordinary delicacy of touch, 
 as I frequently had occasion to observe when I watched him 
 manipulating his fragile philosophical instruments. |