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Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
page 82 of 406 (20%)

"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have
had them more than a few weeks. The soles which you
are at this moment presenting to me are slightly
scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got
wet and been burned in the drying. But near the instep
there is a small circular wafer of paper with the
shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of course
have removed this. You had, then, been sitting with
your feet outstretched to the fire, which a man would
hardly do even in so wet a June as this if he were in
his full health."

Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed
simplicity itself when it was once explained. He read
the thought upon my features, and his smile had a
tinge of bitterness.

"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I
explain," said he. "Results without causes are much
more impressive. You are ready to come to Birmingham,
then?"

"Certainly. What is the case?"

"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is
outside in a four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"

"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbor,
rushed upstairs to explain the matter to my wife, and
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