The Hound of the Baskervilles - Arthur Conan Doyle

which lurks at the heart of the sulphur rose. Admiration was, I repeat, the first impression. But the second wa ...

“Yes, once or twice, when he came into Coombe Tracey. He was a very retiring man, and he preferred ...

“Do you think a woman could go alone at that hour to a bachelor’s house?” “Well, what happened when ...

The law is upon his side, and every day I am faced by the possibility that he may force me to live with ...

dogged us so long. He might slip away from us in the crowd of Regent Street, but it would puzzle him ...

did it that they should stop these disgraceful exhibitions. The County Constabulary is in a sca ...

The least appearance of opposition struck fire out of the old autocrat. His eyes looked malignantly at me, and his ...

through the country. Nothing would induce me to help the police in any way. For all they cared it might ...

checkered light, a pannikin and a half-full bottle of spirits standing in the corner. In the middle of the ...

back into the darkest corner and cocked the pistol in my pocket, determined not to discover myself until I ...

Chapter 12. Death on the Moor For a moment or two I sat breathless, hardly able to believe my ears. Then my ...

“I thought as much—and knowing your admirable tenacity I was convinced that you were sitting in ambush, a ...

my weight at a critical moment.” “But why keep me in the dark?” “For you to know could not have help ...

into our hands. If I could only use it to detach his wife—” “His wife?” “I am giving you some informatio ...

asked. “That is one of the points upon which your own researches have shed a light. Your interview wi ...

“No, there!” Again the agonised cry swept through the silent night, louder and much nearer than ever. And a ...

pool which widened slowly from the crushed skull of the victim. And it shone upon something else which tu ...

villain may escape us yet.” “What can we do?” “There will be plenty for us to do tomorrow. Tonight we can only ...

“A greater mystery to me is why this hound, presuming that all our conjectures are correct—” “I p ...

upon the moor. By the way”—his eyes darted again from my face to Holmes’s —“did you hear anything ...