Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930 / 2008-09-10 00:00:00
"Uniform away for repairs."
"And you were?" I asked, with a slightly malicious glance
at my companion.
"A sergeant, sir, Royal Marine Light Infantry, sir.
No answer? Right, sir."
He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a salute,
and was gone.
CHAPTER III.
THE LAURISTON GARDEN MYSTERY {6}
I CONFESS that I was considerably startled by this fresh
proof of the practical nature of my companion's theories.
My respect for his powers of analysis increased wondrously.
There still remained some lurking suspicion in my mind,
however, that the whole thing was a pre-arranged episode,
intended to dazzle me, though what earthly object he could
have in taking me in was past my comprehension.
When I looked at him he had finished reading the note,
and his eyes had assumed the vacant, lack-lustre expression
which showed mental abstraction.
"How in the world did you deduce that?" I asked.
"Deduce what?" said he, petulantly.
"Why, that he was a retired sergeant of Marines."
"I have no time for trifles," he answered, brusquely;
then with a smile, "Excuse my rudeness.
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