Porlock, Watson, is a nom-de-plume, a mere identification mark but behind it lies a shifty and evasive personality. He was speaking to himself rather than to me but my vexation disappeared in the interest which the words awakened. But if it is Porlock, then it must be something of the very first importance. The Greek e with the peculiar top flourish is distinctive. I can hardly doubt that it is Porlock’s writing, though I have seen it only twice before. It is Porlock’s writing, said he thoughtfully. Then he took the envelope itself, held it up to the light, and very carefully studied both the exterior and the flap. He leaned upon his hand, with his untasted breakfast before him, and he stared at the slip of paper which he had just drawn from its envelope. He was too much absorbed with his own thoughts to give any immediate answer to my remonstrance. Really, Holmes, said I severely, you are a little trying at times. I believe that I am one of the most long-suffering of mortals but I’ll admit that I was annoyed at the sardonic interruption. I should do so, Sherlock Holmes remarked impatiently.
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