"But why Turkish?" asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes, gazing fixedly at my
boots. I was reclining in a cane-backed chair at the moment, and my
protruded feet had attracted his ever-active attention.
"English," I answered in some surprise. "I got them at Latimer\'s, in
Oxford Street."
Holmes smiled with an expression of weary patience.
"The bath!" he said; "the bath! Why the relaxing and expensive
Turkish rather than the invigorating home-made article?"
"Because for the last few days I have been feeling rheumatic and old.
A Turkish bath is what we call an alterative in medicine--a fresh startingpoint,
a cleanser of the system.
"By the way, Holmes," I added, "I have no doubt the connection
between my boots and a Turkish bath is a perfectly self-evident one to a
logical mind, and yet I should be obliged to you if you would indicate it."
"The train of reasoning is not very obscure, Watson," said Holmes with
a mischievous twinkle. "It belongs to the same elementary class of
deduction which I should illustrate if I were to ask you who shared your
cab in your drive this morning."
"I don\'t admit that a fresh illustration is an explanation," said I with
some asperity.
"Bravo, Watson! A very dignified and logical remonstrance. Let
me see, what were the points? Take the last one first--the cab. You
observe that you have some splashes on the left sleeve and shoulder of
your coat. Had you sat in the centre of a hansom you would probably
have had no splashes, and if you had they would certainly have been
symmetrical. Therefore it is clear that you sat at the side. Therefore it
is equally clear that you had a companion."
"That is very evident."
"Absurdly commonplace, is it not?"
"But the boots and the bath?"