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I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half-past

six when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I

approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a

coat which was buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the

bright semicircle which was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I

arrived the door was opened, and we were shown up together to

Holmes' room.

"Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising from his armchair

and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he

could so readily assume. "Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr.

Baker. It is a cold night, and I observe that your circulation is

more adapted for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have

just come at the right time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker?"

"Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat."