Am Dining At Goldini's Restaurant, Gloucester Road,

Exactly. She Does Not Shine As A Wife Even In Her Own Account Of What Occurred. I Am Not A Whole-souled Admirer Of Womankind, As You Are Aware, Watson, But My Experience Of Life Has Taught Me That There Are Few Wives Having Any Regard For Their Husbands Who Would Let Any Man's Spoken Word Stand Between Them And That Husband's Dead Body. Should I Ever Marry, Watson, I Should Hope To Inspire My Wife With Some Feeling Which Would Prevent Her From Being Walked Off By A Housekeeper When My Corpse Was Lying Within A Few Yards Of Her.

By A Man's Finger-nails, By His Coat-sleeve, By His Boots, By His Trouser-knees, By The Callosities Of His Forefinger And Thumb, By His Expression, By His Shirt-cuff — By Each Of These Things A Man's Calling Is Plainly Revealed. That All United Should Fail To Enlighten The Competent Inquirer In Any Case Is Almost Inconceivable. You Know That A Conjurer Gets No Credit When Once He Has Explained His Trick; And If I Show You Too Much Of My Method Of Working, You Will Come To The Conclusion That I Am A Very Ordinary Individual After All.

I Had ... Come To An Entirely Erroneous Conclusion, Which Shows, My Dear Watson, How Dangerous It Always Is To Reason From Insufficient Data.

It Is Quite A Three Pipe Problem, And I Beg That You Won't Speak To Me For Fifty Minutes.

There's A Light In A Woman's Eyes That Speaks Louder Than Words.