Dear me, Watson, is it possible that you have not penetrated the fact that the case hangs upon the missing dumb-bell?

You know my powers, my dear Watson, and yet at the end of three months I was forced to confess that I had at last met an antagonist who was my intellectual equal. My horror at his crimes was lost in my admiration at his skill.

I think that I may go so far as to say, Watson, that I have not lived wholly in vain, he remarked. "If my record were closed to-night I could still survey it with equanimity. The air of London is the sweeter for my presence."

A long shot, Watson, a very long shot!

You know my methods, Watson.

Is it not? Is it not? Breadth of view, my dear Mr. Mac, is one of the essentials of our profession. The interplay of ideas and the oblique uses of knowledge are often of extraordinary interest.