PART I.
5. CHAPTER V.  OUR ADVERTISEMENT BRINGS A VISITOR.
 
OUR morning's exertions had been too much for my weak health, 
 and I was tired out in the afternoon.  After Holmes' 
 departure for the concert, I lay down upon the sofa and 
 endeavoured to get a couple of hours' sleep.  It was a 
 useless attempt.  My mind had been too much excited by all 
 that had occurred, and the strangest fancies and surmises 
 crowded into it.  Every time that I closed my eyes I saw 
 before me the distorted baboon-like countenance of the 
 murdered man.  So sinister was the impression which that face 
 had produced upon me that I found it difficult to feel 
 anything but gratitude for him who had removed its owner from 
 the world.  If ever human features bespoke vice of the most 
 malignant type, they were certainly those of Enoch J. Drebber, 
 of Cleveland.  Still I recognized that justice must be done, 
 and that the depravity of the victim was no condonement in 
 the eyes of the law. 
The more I thought of it the more extraordinary did my 
 companion's hypothesis, that the man had been poisoned, 
 appear.  I remembered how he had sniffed his lips, and had no 
 doubt that he had detected something which had given rise to 
 the idea.  Then, again, if not poison, what had caused the 
 man's death, since there was neither wound nor marks of 
 strangulation?  But, on the other hand, whose blood was that 
 which lay so thickly upon the floor?  There were no signs of 
 a struggle, nor had the victim any weapon with which he might 
 have wounded an antagonist.  As long as all these questions 
 were unsolved, I felt that sleep would be no easy matter, 
 either for Holmes or myself.  His quiet self-confident manner 
 convinced me that he had already formed a theory which 
 explained all the facts, though what it was I could not for 
 an instant conjecture. 
He was very late in returning -- so late, that I knew 
 that the concert could not have detained him all the time.  
 Dinner was on the table before he appeared. 
"It was magnificent," he said, as he took his seat.  "Do you 
 remember what Darwin says about music?  He claims that the 
 power of producing and appreciating it existed among the 
 human race long before the power of speech was arrived at.  
 Perhaps that is why we are so subtly influenced by it.  
 There are vague memories in our souls of those misty centuries 
 when the world was in its childhood." 
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