It was early in April in the year 1883 that I woke one morning to find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and the clock on the mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter past seven. I blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits.

"Very sorry to wake you up, Watson," said he "but it's happening to everyone this morning. Mrs Hudson has been woken up, she came to me, and I to you."

"What is it, then - a fire?"

"No, a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable state of excitement, and she insists on seeing me. She is now waiting in the sitting room. Now, when young ladies wander around the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and get sleepy people out of their beds, I presume that they have something very urgent which they have to communicate. If it is an interesting case, I am sure you would want to follow it from the beginning. I thought at any rate, I would call on you and give you the chance."

"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything."