Hound of the Baskervilles

by: Arthur Conan Doyle

Chapters XII–XIII

1

That cold, incisive, ironical voice could belong to but one man in all the world.

2

“Then my reports have all been wasted!” My voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the pride with which I had composed them.

3

I was still rather raw over the deception which had been practised upon me, but the warmth of Holmes’s praise drove my anger from my mind.