| Shortly
after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington district. Old Mr.
Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an excellent general practice;
but his age, and an affliction of the nature of St. Vitus's dance from which he
suffered, had very much thinned it. The public not unnaturally goes on the principle
that he who would heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the
curative powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus
as my predecessor weakened his practice declined, until when I purchased it from
him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more than three hundred a year.
I had confidence, however, in my own youth and energy, and was convinced that
in a very few years the concern would be as flourishing as ever. For
three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely at work, and
saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy to visit Baker Street,
and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon professional business. I was surprised,
therefore, when, one morning in June, as I sat reading the British Medical Journal
after breakfast, I heard a ring at the bell, followed by the high, somewhat strident
tones of my old companion's voice. "Ah,
my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room, "I am very delighted
to see you! I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered from all the little
excitements connected with our adventure of the Sign of Four." "Thank
you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the hand.
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