I clutched Holmes's
arm, and pointed upward.
"The shadow has moved!" I cried.
It was indeed no longer the profile, but the back, which was
turned towards us.
Three years had certainly not smoothed the asperities of his
temper or his impatience with a less active intelligence than his
own.
"Of course it has moved," said he. "Am I such a farcical
bungler, Watson, that I should erect an obvious dummy, and
expect that some of the sharpest men in Europe would be de-
ceived by it? We have been in this room two hours, and Mrs.
Hudson has made some change in that figure eight times, or once
in every quarter of an hour. She works it from the front, so that
her shadow may never be seen. Ah!" He drew in his breath with
a shrill, excited intake. In the dim light I saw his head thrown
forward, his whole attitude rigid with attention. Outside the
street was absolutely deserted. Those two men might still be
crouching in the doorway, but I could no longer see them. All
was still and dark, save only that brilliant yellow screen in front
of us with the black figure outlined upon its centre.
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