It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning, towards the end of the winter of '97, that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face, and told me at a glance that something was amiss.
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"Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!"
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第一章
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