In Oxford
Street we picked up a hansom and drove to an address in
Hampstead. Here we paid off our cab, and with our great coats
buttoned up, for it was bitterly cold, and the wind seemed to
blow through us, we walked along the edge of the heath.
"It's a business that needs delicate treatment," said Holmes.
"These documents are contained in a safe in the fellow's study,
and the study is the ante-room of his bed-chamber. On the other
hand, like all these stout, little men who do themselves well, he
is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha -- that's my fiancee -- says it is a
joke in the servants' hall that it's impossible to wake the master.
He has a secretary who is devoted to his interests, and never
budges from the study all day. That's why we are going at night.
Then he has a beast of a dog which roams the garden. I met
Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks the brute up so
as to give me a clear run. This is the house, this big one in its
own grounds. Through the gate -- now to the right among the
laurels. We might put on our masks here, I think.
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