The Return of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

All day I turned these facts over in my mind, endeavouring to hit upon

some theory which could reconcile them all, and to find that line

of least resistance which my poor friend had declared to be the

starting-point of every investigation. I confess that I made little

progress. In the evening I strolled across the Park, and found myself

about six o'clock at the Oxford Street end of Park Lane. A group of

loafers upon the pavements, all staring up at a particular window,

directed me to the house which I had come to see. A tall, thin man with

coloured glasses, whom I strongly suspected of being a plain-clothes

detective, was pointing out some theory of his own, while the others

crowded round to listen to what he said. I got as near him as I could,

but his observations seemed to me to be absurd, so I withdrew again in

some disgust. As I did so I struck against an elderly, deformed man,

who had been behind me, and I knocked down several books which he was

carrying. I remember that as I picked them up, I observed the title

of one of them, THE ORIGIN OF TREE WORSHIP, and it struck me that the

fellow must be some poor bibliophile, who, either as a trade or as a

hobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. I endeavoured to apologize

for the accident, but it was evident that these books which I had so

unfortunately maltreated were very precious objects in the eyes of their

owner. With a snarl of contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw his

curved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng.