Good evening. Welcome to the Just Sleep podcast. I'm Tasia, your host.

Every week, I will read you an old story to help you relax of the stressful day behind you and drift off to sleep.

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Tonight, I will be reading another Sherlock Holmes story,

The Adventure of the Barrow Cornyn, by Arthur Conan Doyle.

So lie down, close your eyes, and let me read you a story.

Holmes, said I, as I stood one morning in our bow window looking down the street,

here is a madman coming along.

It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.

My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown,

looking over my shoulder.

It was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still lay deep

upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down the center of Baker Street,

it had been plowed into a brown, crumbly band by the traffic,

but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the footpaths, it still lay as white as when it fell.

A grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual.

Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station, no one was coming, save the single

gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention.

He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a massive, strongly marked face

...