So absorbed was he even then, in tracking some mysterious clue, that he did not seem to notice me.

But therein I was wrong--as I always was in my attempt to understand that powerful intellect.
"It is raining," he said, without lifting his head.
"You have been out, then ?" I said quickly.
"No.

But I see that your umbrella is wet, and that your overcoat has drops of water on it." I sat aghast at his penetration.

After a pause he said carelessly, as if dismissing the subject: "Besides, I hear the rain on the window.
Listen." I listened.

I could scarcely credit my ears, but there was the soft pattering of drops on the panes.