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You will soften him, Watson.

Beg him, pray him, get him here by any means.

He can save me - only he!"

"I will bring him in a cab, if I have to carry him down to it."

"You will do nothing of the sort.

You will persuade him to come.

And then you will return in front of him.

Make any excuse so as not to come with him.

Don't forget, Watson.

You won't fail me.

You never did fail me.

No doubt there are natural enemies which limit the increase of the creatures.

You and I, Watson, we have done our part.

Shall the world, then, be overrun by oysters? No, no; horrible! You'll convey all that is in your mind."

I left him full of the image of this magnificent intellect babbling like a foolish child.

He had handed me the key, and with a happy thought I took it with me lest he should lock himself in.

Mrs. Hudson was waiting, trembling and weeping, in the passage.

Behind me as I passed from the flat I heard Holmes's high, thin voice in some delirious chant.

Below, as I stood whistling for a cab, a man came on me through the fog.

"How is Mr. Holmes, sir?" he asked.

It was an old acquaintance, Inspector Morton, of Scotland Yard, dressed in unofficial tweeds.

"He is very ill," I answered.

He looked at me in a most singular fashion. Had it not been too fiendish, I could have imagined that the gleam of the fanlight showed exultation in his face.

"I heard some rumour of it," said he.

The cab had driven up, and I left him.

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