I'll strive to do my best,"-- in the old fawning manner, to which Holmes nodded a curt reply.
The man stopped for Sophy to gather up her bits of broken "chayney" with which she was making a tea-party on the table, and went down-stairs.
Towards evening Holmes went out,--not going through the narrow passage that led to the offices, but avoiding it by a circuitous route.

If it cost him any pain to think why he did it, he showed none in his calm, observant face.

Buttoning up his coat as he went: the October sunset looked as if it ought to be warm, but he was deathly cold.

On the street the young doctor beset him again with bows and news: Cox was his name, I believe; the one, you remember, who had such a Talleyrand nose for ferreting out successful men.

He had to bear with him but for a few moments, however.