"I was not sure whether I had left it here or in the Shipping Office.

I would not lose that stick for the world." "A presentation, I see," said Holmes.
"Yes, sir." "From Charing Cross Hospital ?" "From one or two friends there on the occasion of my marriage." "Dear, dear, that's bad!" said Holmes, shaking his head.
Dr.Mortimer blinked through his glasses in mild astonishment.
"Why was it bad ?" "Only that you have disarranged our little deductions.

Your marriage, you say ?" "Yes, sir.

I married, and so left the hospital, and with it all hopes of a consulting practice.

It was necessary to make a home of my own." "Come, come, we are not so far wrong, after all," said Holmes.
"And now, Dr.James Mortimer ------" "Mister, sir, Mister--a humble M.R.C.S." "And a man of precise mind, evidently." "A dabbler in science, Mr.Holmes, a picker up of shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean.