I confess that I should be interested to know who this Mr. Cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has such very large transactions.
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Is it possible that he has had a hand in the affair? Cornelius might be a broker, but we have found no scrip to correspond with these large payments.
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Failing any other indication my researches must now take the direction of an inquiry at the bank for the gentleman who has cashed these cheques.
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But I fear, my dear fellow, that our case will end ingloriously by Lestrade hanging our client, which will certainly be a triumph for Scotland Yard."
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I do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night, but when I came down to breakfast I found him pale and harassed, his bright eyes the brighter for the dark shadows round them.
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The carpet round his chair was littered with cigarette-ends and with the early editions of the morning papers.
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An open telegram lay upon the table.
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"What do you think of this, Watson?" he asked, tossing it across.
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It was from Norwood, and ran as follows:-
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"important fresh evidence to hand. Mcfarlane's guilt definitely Established. Advise you to abandon case. - Lestrade."
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"This sounds serious," said I.
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"It is Lestrade's little cock-a-doodle of victory," Holmes answered, with a bitter smile.
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"And yet it may be premature to abandon the case.
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After all, important fresh evidence is a two-edged thing, and may possibly cut in a very different direction to that which Lestrade imagines.
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Take your breakfast, Watson, and we will go out together and see what we can do.
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I feel as if I shall need your company and your moral support to-day."
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My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiarities that in his more intense moments he would permit himself no food, and I have known him presume upon his iron strength until he has fainted from pure inanition.
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"At present I cannot spare energy and nerve force for digestion," he would say in answer to my medical remonstrances.
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I was not surprised, therefore, when this morning he left his untouched meal behind him and started with me for Norwood.
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A crowd of morbid sightseers were still gathered round Deep Dene House, which was just such a suburban villa as I had pictured.
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Within the gates Lestrade met us, his face flushed with victory, his manner grossly triumphant.
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"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you proved us to be wrong yet? Have you found your tramp?" he cried.
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"I have formed no conclusion whatever," my companion answered.
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"But we formed ours yesterday, and now it proves to be correct; so you must acknowledge that we have been a little in front of you this time, Mr. Holmes."
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"You certainly have the air of something unusual having occurred," said Holmes.
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