[The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link book
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

XI
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I confess that the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation.

He hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought.

Our client appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a desultory chat with me over his business affairs.

A short railway journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest residence of the great financier.
Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing back a little from the road.

A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-clad lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed the entrance.


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