“Have a cigarette, Mr. McFarlane,” you say, pushing your case
across. “Now, if you feel a little more composed, I should be glad
if you would sit down in that chair and tell us very slowly and
quietly who you are and what it is that you want. You mentioned
your name as if I should recognize it, but I assure you that, beyond
the obvious facts that you are a bachelor, a solicitor, a Freemason,
and an asthmatic, I know nothing whatever about you.”
“Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes, and in additionI am the most
unfortunate man at this moment in London. For Heaven’s sake
don’t abandon me, Mr. Holmes! If they come to arrest me before I
have finished my story, make them give me time so that I may tell
you the whole truth. I could go to jail happy if I knew that you
were working for me outside.”