Sherlock Holmes - Character Illustrations

Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime....
“that was surely the bell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?”
“Except yourself I have none,” he answered. “I do not encourage visitors.”

“Give me your coat and umbrella,” said Holmes. “They may rest here on the hook and will be dry presently.”

“He (Major Prendergast) said that you could solve anything.”
“He said too much.”
“That you are never beaten.”
“I have been beaten four times - three times by men, and once by a woman.”

Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. “Incredible imbecility!” he cried.

“And, above all, take care of yourself in the meanwhile, for I do not think that there can be a doubt that you are threatened by a very real and imminent danger.”

“There is nothing more to be said or to be done to-night, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable ways of our fellowmen.”

“I feared as much. How was it done?” He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was deeply moved.
We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed and shaken than I had ever seen him.

“That hurts my pride, Watson,” he said at last. “It is a petty feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal matter with me now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my hand upon this gang. That he should come to me for help, and that I should send him away to his death —!” He sprang from his chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with a flush upon his sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and unclasping of his long thin hands.

“You are hungry,” I (Watson) remarked.
“Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since breakfast.”

“I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long remain unavenged.”