For half an hour or so I discussed that old gentleman's symptoms with him, and then, having prescribed for him, I saw him go off upon the arm of his son. I have told you that Mr. Blessington generally chose this hour of the day for his exercise. He c...
I confess that I was very much surprised at it, said I. Well, the fact is, he remarked, that when I recover from these attacks my mind is always very clouded as to all that has gone before. I woke up in a strange room, as it seemed to me, and made my...
My first feeling, as I have just said, was one of pity and horror. My second, I fear, was rather one of professional satisfaction. I made notes of my patient's pulse and temperature, tested the rigidity of his muscles, and examined his reflexes. Ther...
What happened was this. Two days ago I received the letter which I now read to you. Neither address nor date is attached to it. A Russian nobleman who is now resident in England, it runs, would be glad to avail himself of the professional assistance...
This was the strange proposal, Mr. Holmes, with which the man Blessington approached me. I won't weary you with the account of how we bargained and negotiated. It ended in my moving into the house next Lady Day, and starting in practice on very much...
This was a visit from a gentleman of the name of Blessington, who was a complete stranger to me. He came up to my room one morning, and plunged into business in an instant. You are the same Percy Trevelyan who has had so distinguished a career and wo...
Sherlock Holmes sat down and lit his pipe. You are very welcome to both, said he. Pray let me have a detailed account of what the circumstances are which have disturbed you. One or two of them are so trivial, said Dr. Trevelyan, that really I am almo...
I was sufficiently conversant with Holmes's methods to be able to follow his reasoning, and to see that the nature and state of the various medical instruments in the wicker basket which hung in the lamplight inside the brougham had given him the dat...
A day's work ruined, Watson, said he, striding across to the window. Ha! The stars are out and he wind has fallen. What do you say to a ramble through London? I was weary of our little sitting-room and gladly acquiesced. For three hours we strolled a...
The Resident Patient Arthur Conan Doyle Glancing over the somewhat incoherent series of Memoirs with which I have endeavored to illustrate a few of the mental peculiarities of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have been struck by the difficulty which...