For once I must lead, and Raffles follow,
whether he liked it or not. He saw that himself; and I think he
liked it better than he liked me for the desecration in view; but
I had hardened my heart, and his feelings were too fine for actual
remonstrance on such a point.
I, in my obduracy, went to foul extremes. I drew plans of all. the
floors from memory. I actually descended upon my friends in the
neighborhood, with the sole object of obtaining snap-shots over our
own old garden wall. Even Raffles could not keep his eyebrows down
when I showed him the prints one morning in the Albany. But he
confined his open criticisms to the house.
"Built in the late 'sixties, I see," said Raffles, "or else very
early in the 'seventies."
"Exactly when it was built," I replied. "But that's worthy of a
sixpenny detective, Raffles! How on earth did you know?"
"That slate tower bang over the porch, with the dormer windows and
the iron railing and flagstaff atop makes us a present of the period.
You see them on almost every house of a certain size built about
thirty years ago.
Pages:
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248