The Adventure of the Six Napoleons

           

           ItwasnoveryunusualthingforMr.Lestrade,ofScotlandYard,tolookinuponusofanevening,andhisvisitswerewelcometoSherlockHolmes,fortheyenabledhimtokeepintouchwithallthatwasgoingonatthepoliceheadquarters.InreturnforthenewswhichLestradewouldbring,Holmeswasalwaysreadytolistenwithattentiontothedetailsofanycaseuponwhichthedetectivewasengaged,andwasableoccasionally,withoutanyactiveinterference,togivesomehintorsuggestiondrawnfromhisownvastknowledgeandexperience.

           Onthisparticularevening,Lestradehadspokenoftheweatherandthenewspapers.Thenhehadfallensilent,puffingthoughtfullyathiscigar.Holmeslookedkeenlyathim.

           “Anythingremarkableonhand?”heasked.

           “Oh,no,Mr.Holmes—nothingveryparticular.”

           “Thentellmeaboutit.”

           Lestradelaughed.

           “Well,Mr.Holmes,thereisnousedenyingthatthereissomethingonmymind.Andyetitissuchanabsurdbusiness,thatIhesitatedtobotheryouaboutit.Ontheotherhand,althoughitistrivial,itisundoubtedlyqueer,andIknowthatyouhaveatasteforallthatisoutofthecommon.But,inmyopinion,itcomesmoreinDr.Watson’slinethanours.”

           “Disease?”saidI.

           “Madness,anyhow.Andaqueermadness,too.Youwouldn’tthinktherewasanyonelivingatthistimeofdaywhohadsuchahatredofNapoleontheFirstthathewouldbreakanyimageofhimthathecouldsee.”

           Holmessankbackinhischair.

           “That’snobusinessofmine,”saidhe.

           “Exactly.That’swhatIsaid.

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