The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax
by Arthur Conan Doyle
"But why Turkish?" asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes, gazing fix- edly at my boots. I was reclining in a cane-backed chair at the moment, and my protruded feet had attracted his ever-active attention.
"English," I answered in some surprise. "I got them at Latimer's, in Oxford Street."
Holmes smiled with an expression of weary patience.
"The bath!" he said; "the bath! Why the relaxing and expen- sive Turkish rather than the invigorating home-made article?"
"Because for the last few days I have been feeling rheumatic and old. A Turkish bath is what we call an alterative in medicine -- a fresh starting-point, a cleanser of the system.
"By the way, Holmes," I added, "I have no doubt the connection between my boots and a Turkish bath is a perfectly self-evident one to a logical mind, and yet I should be obliged to you if you would indicate it."
"The train of reasoning is not very obscure, Watson," said Holmes with a mischievous twinkle. "It belongs to the same elementary class of deduction which I should illustrate if I were to ask you who shared your cab in your drive this morning."
"I admit that a fresh illustration is an explanation," said I with some asperity.
"Bravo, Watson! A very dignified and logical remonstrance. Let me see, what were the points? Take the last one first -- the cab. You observe that you have some splashes on the left sleeve and shoulder of your coat. Had you sat in the centre of a hansom you would probably have had no splashes, and if you had they would certainly have been symmetrical. Therefore it is clear that you sat at the side. Therefore it is equally clear that you had ...
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