I don't think that any of my adventures with Mr. Sherlock Holmes
opened quite so abruptly, or so dramatically, as that which I
associate with The Three Gables. I had not seen Holmes for some days
and had no idea of the new channel into which his activities had been
directed. He was in a chatty mood that morning, however, and had just
settled me into the well-worn low armchair on one side of the fire,
while he had curled down with his pipe in his mouth upon the opposite
chair, when our visitor arrived. If I had said that a mad bull had
arrived it would give a clearer impression of what occurred.