The Give you private. I'm going to As our tale begins, a dark, bearded man scales the wall surrounding a manor house known as

the copper beaches.

Creeping his way across the grounds, the mysterious man stares upward at the stained glass window

of the upper turret.

The occupants of the estate become alarmed

when their mastiff begins to bark angrily,

indicating the presence of an intruder.

Fearing for his life,

the bearded man flees from the giant dog,

retreating across the lawn and back over the wall

from whence he came.

And so begins the adventure of the Copper Beaches.

At 221B, Dr. Watson amuses himself,

jotting down a new passage in his latest chronicle. But his friend, Sherlock Holmes, harbors a dark disconcertment.

To the man who loves art for its own sake, it is frequently in its least important

and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived.

Hmm? Oh, if you say so, Holmes.

It is pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth,

that in these little records of our cases which you have been good enough to draw up, and I am bound to say, occasionally embellished,

that you have given prominence not so much to the many co- celeb and sensational trials in which I have figured but rather to those

incidents which have given room for those faculties of deduction and logical

synthesis which I have made my special province kind of you to say so Holmes.

...