The Hound of the Baskervilles

‘… when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’

. A woman of Spanish blood does not condone such an injury so lightly.

And now, my dear Watson, we have had some weeks of severe work, and for one evening, I think, we may turn our thoughts into more pleasant channels. I have a box for Les Huguenots. Have you heard the De Reszkes? Might I trouble you then to be ready in half an hour, and we can stop at Marcinis for a little dinner on the way?

The tragedy was still black enough, but this man had at least deserved death by the laws of his country.

How about that hour of darkness in which the power of evil is exalted?

Charing Cross Hospital

Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!”

is very sparsely inhabited

am afraid, my dear Watson, that most of your conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting your fallacies I was occasionally guided towards the truth. Not that you are entirely wrong in this instance. The man is certainly a country practitioner. And he walks a good deal.”

It was the end of November