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of public houses at the corner.

      03_041

      Then came rows of two-storied villas each with a fronting of miniature garden, and then again interminable lines of new staring brick buildings, – the monster tentacles which the giant city was throwing out into the country. At last the cab drew up at the third house in a new terrace.

      03_042

      None of the other houses were inhabited, and that at which we stopped was as dark as its neighbors, save for a single glimmer in the kitchen window. On our knocking, however, the door was instantly thrown open by a Hindoo servant clad in a yellow turban, white loose-fitting clothes, and a yellow sash.

      03_043

      There was something strangely incongruous in this Oriental figure framed in the commonplace door-way of a third-rate suburban dwelling-house.

      03_044

      «The Sahib awaits you,» said he, and even as he spoke there came a high piping voice from some inner room. «Show them in to me, khitmutgar,» it cried. «Show them straight in to me.»

      Chapter IV. The Story of the Bald-Headed Man

      04_001

      We followed the Indian down a sordid and common passage, ill lit and worse furnished, until he came to a door upon the right, which he threw open.

      04_002

      A blaze of yellow light streamed out upon us, and in the centre of the glare there stood a small man with a very high head, a bristle of red hair all round the fringe of it, and a bald, shining scalp which shot out from among it like a mountain-peak from fir-trees.

      04_003

      He writhed his hands together as he stood, and his features were in a perpetual jerk, now smiling, now scowling, but never for an instant in repose.

      04_004

      Nature had given him a pendulous lip, and a too visible line of yellow and irregular teeth, which he strove feebly to conceal by constantly passing his hand over the lower part of his face. In spite of his obtrusive baldness, he gave the impression of youth. In point of fact he had just turned his thirtieth year.

      04_005

      «Your servant, Miss Morstan,» he kept repeating, in a thin, high voice. «Your servant, gentlemen. Pray step into my little sanctum. A small place, miss, but furnished to my own liking. An oasis of art in the howling desert of South London.»

      04_006

      We were all astonished by the appearance of the apartment into which he invited us. In that sorry house it looked as out of place as a diamond of the first water in a setting of brass.

      04_007

      The richest and glossiest of curtains and tapestries draped the walls, looped back here and there to expose some richly-mounted painting or Oriental vase. The carpet was of amber-and-black, so soft and so thick that the foot sank pleasantly into it, as into a bed of moss.

      04_008

      Two great tiger-skins thrown athwart it increased the suggestion of Eastern luxury, as did a huge hookah which stood upon a mat in the corner. A lamp in the fashion of a silver dove was hung from an almost invisible golden wire in the centre of the room.

      04_009

      As it burned it filled the air with a subtle and aromatic odor.

      04_010

      «Mr. Thaddeus Sholto,» said the little man, still jerking and smiling. «That is my name. You are Miss Morstan, of course. And these gentlemen – »

      «This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and this is Dr. Watson.»

      04_011

      «A doctor, eh?» cried he, much excited. «Have you your stethoscope? Might I ask you – would you have the kindness? I have grave doubts as to my mitral valve, if you would be so very good. The aortic I may rely upon, but I should value your opinion upon the mitral.»

      04_012

      I listened to his heart, as requested, but was unable to find anything amiss, save indeed that he was in an ecstasy of fear, for he shivered from head to foot. «It appears to be normal,» I said. «You have no cause for uneasiness.»

      04_013

      «You will excuse my anxiety, Miss Morstan,» he remarked, airily. «I am a great sufferer, and I have long had suspicions as to that valve. I am delighted to hear that they are unwarranted. Had your father, Miss Morstan, refrained from throwing a strain upon his heart, he might have been alive now.»

      04_014

      I could have struck the man across the face, so hot was I at this callous and off-hand reference to so delicate a matter. Miss Morstan sat down, and her face grew white to the lips. «I knew in my heart that he was dead,» said she.

      04_015

      «I can give you every information,» said he, «and, what is more, I can do you justice; and I will, too, whatever Brother Bartholomew may say. I am so glad to have your friends here, not only as an escort to you, but also as witnesses to what I am about to do and say.

      04_016

      The three of us can show a bold front to Brother Bartholomew. But let us have no outsiders, – no police or officials. We can settle everything satisfactorily among ourselves, without any interference. Nothing would annoy Brother Bartholomew more than any publicity.»

      04_017

      He sat down upon a low settee and blinked at us inquiringly with his weak, watery blue eyes.

      04_018

      «For my part,» said Holmes, «whatever you may choose to say will go no further.»

      I nodded to show my agreement.

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