He had left his walking-stick behind, but no message. Too weary
to worry about our landlady's frowning countenance, I went to
bed. The old place looks quite comforting now that I am about
to leave it. To think that it is eight years next January that
Holmes and I moved to Baker Street! Finished breakfast well
before Holmes this morning. He is generally late, save upon
those not infrequent occasions when he is up all night. Mrs 
Hudson provided kidneys by way of an apology for her mood last
night, and while Holmes finished his plateful, I amused myself
by examining the stick left by the visitor in the hope of
guessing his occupation. Holmes spoilt my game by a trick of his
own. His back being toward me, I thought to make my examination
in secret, but he watched my reflection in the well-polished 
silver-plated coffee-pot before him, and teased me into openly
giving my description of the owner, which he then refuted by
his own annoyingly perfect logic.
