The Darkwater Hall Mystery

The Darkwater Hall MysteryOn consulting my notes, their paper grown yellow and their ink brown with the passage of almost 40 years, I find it to have been in the closing days of July 1885 that my friend Sherlock Holmes fell victim, more completely, perhaps, than at any other time, to the innate melancholy of his temperament. The circumstances were not propitious. London was stiflingly hot, without a drop of rain to lay the dust that, at intervals, a damp wind swept up Baker Street. The exertions...