Sign of four Flashcards
sinewy forearm and wrist..
all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks
his great powers..
his masterly manner
‘my mind,’ he said..
‘rebels at stagnation. give me problems, give me work….. and i am in my own proper atmosphere’
expression of extraordinary..
concentration upon his clean- cut hawk-like features
automaton, ….
a calculating machine… inhuman at times
mary’s sensitive face..
was composed but pale
entered the room with…
a firm step and an outward composure of manner
her lip trembled…
her hand quivered, and she showed every sign of intense inward agitation.
you are a wronged woman…
and shall have justice
an army surgeon..
with a weak leg and a weaker banking account
he was bright..
eager and in excellent spirits
it was clear that…
he thought our night’s work might be a serious one
a dense, drizzly
fog lay low upon the great city
staring brick buildings..
the monster tentacles which the giant city was throwing ot into the country
we had indeed…
reached a questionable and forbidding neighbourhood
mud-coloured clouds…
dropped sadly over the muddy streets
an oasis of art…
in the howling desert of South London
in that sorry house…
it looked as out of place as a diamond of the first water in a setting of brass
the strange, jerky little fellow…
with his high, shining face
it was a bearded, hairy face…
with wild cruel eyes and an expression of concentrated malevolence
pondicherry lodge stood in its own grounds…
and was girt round with a very high stone wall topped with broken glass
a gravel path..
wound through desolate grounds to a huge clump of house
the vast size of the building..
with its gloom and its deathly silence, struck a chill to the heart
in a horrible smile…
a fixed and unnatural grin…. more jarring to the nerves than any scowl or contortion
simple as the case seems now…
there may be something deeper underlying it
holmes’ beady eyes…
gleaming and deep- set like those of a bird
so swift,…
silent and furtive were his movements, like those of a trained blood hound
jones was red faced,
burly and with a pair of very small twinkling eyes
looked keenly out…
from between swollen and puffy pouches
after the angelic fashion of women…
she had borne trouble with a calm face
i had found her
bright and placid by the side of the frightened housekeeper
might mary look upon me…
as a mere vulgar fortune seeker?
i could not bear to risk…
that such a thought should cross her mind
this agra treasure…
intervened like an impassable barrier between us
in rushed a dozen..
dirty and ragged little street arabs
they are fierce…
morose and intractable people
naturally hideous,
having large, misshapen heads, small fierce eyes and distorted features
this infernal problem…
is consuming me
was it not possible that
his nimble and speculative mind had built up this wild theory upon faulty premises?
his expression was downcast…
and his bearing meek and even apologetic
heap it on stokers…
make the boat do all she can!
the furnaces roared,
and the powerful engines whizzed and clanked, like a great metallic heart
with every throb of the engines
we sprang and quivered like a living thing
a little black man…
with a great misshapen head and tangled, dishevelled hair
somewhere in the dark ooze
at the bottom of the thames lie the bones of that strange visitor to our shores
fell over her sweet, grave face..
and tinted with a dull, metallic sparkle the rich coils of her luxuriant hair
whoever had lost a treasure,
i knew that night that i had gained one
i saw the fury…
and passion of the man (jon small)
there were 97 very fine emeralds
and 170 rubies
‘there still remains the cocaine bottle’
and he stretched his long white hand up for it
