"
The wind howled and screamed at the windows. Holmes and
I drew closer to the fire, while the young inspector slowly and
point by point developed his singular narrative.
"If you were to search all England," said he, "I don't
suppose you could find a household more self-contained or freer
from outside influences. Whole weeks would pass, and not one
of them go past the garden gate. The professor was buried in his
work and existed for nothing else. Young Smith knew nobody in
the neighbourhood, and lived very much as his employer did.
The two women had nothing to take them from the house.
Mortimer, the gardener, who wheels the Bath chair, is an army
pensioner -- an old Crimean man of excellent character. He does
not live in the house, but in a three-roomed cottage at the other
end of the garden. Those are the only people that you would find
within the grounds of Yoxley Old Place. At the same time, the
gate of the garden is a hundred yards from the main London to
Chatham road. It opens with a latch, and there is nothing to
prevent anyone from walking in.
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