"It is entirely a question of barometric pressure." Lestrade looked startled.

"I do not quite follow," he said.
"How is the glass?
Twenty-nine, I see.

No wind, and not a cloud in the sky.

I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need smoking, and the sofa is very much superior to the usual country hotel abomination.

I do not think that it is probable that I shall use the carriage to-night." Lestrade laughed indulgently.