Even now, in the stillness of death, the huge jaws seemed to be dripping with a bluish flame and the small, deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire.

I placed my hand upon the glowing muzzle, and as I held them up my own fingers smouldered and gleamed in the darkness.
"Phosphorus," I said.
"A cunning preparation of it," said Holmes, sniffing at the dead animal.

"There is no smell which might have interfered with his power of scent.

We owe you a deep apology, Sir Henry, for having exposed you to this fright.

I was prepared for a hound, but not for such a creature as this.