Death on the Moor · 0:33 - 1:05
score 0.74Cited transcript
"Holmes!" I cried. "Holmes!" "Come out," said he, "and please be careful with the revolver." I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside, his gray eyes dancing with amusement as they fell upon my astonished features. He was thin and worn, but clear and alert, his keen face bronzed by the sun and roughened by the wind. In his tweed suit and cloth cap, he looked like any other tourist upon the moor.