The landlord further informed me that there are usually week-end visitors -- `a warm lot, sir' -- at the Hall, and especially one gentleman with a red moustache, Mr.Woodley by name, who was always there.We had got as far as this when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the tap-room and had heard the whole conversation.Who was I?
What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous.
He ended a string of abuse by a vicious back-hander which I failed to entirely avoid.The next few minutes were delicious.It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian.I emerged as you see me.Mr.Woodley went home in a cart.So ended my country trip, and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border has not been much more profitable than your own."The Thursday brought us another letter from our client.
"You will not be surprised, Mr.Holmes," said she, "to hear that I am leaving Mr.Carruthers's employment.Even the high pay cannot reconcile me to the discomforts of my situation.
On Saturday I come up to town and I do not intend to return.
Mr.Carruthers has got a trap, and so the dangers of the lonely road, if there ever were any dangers, are now over.
"As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strained situation with Mr.Carruthers, but it is the reappearance of that odious man, Mr.Woodley.He was always hideous, but he looks more awful than ever now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is much disfigured.I saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not meet him.