It was not unusual for Mr. Lestrade of Scotland Yard, to visit us sometimes in the evening. Sherlock Holmes welcomed his visits, because they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going on at the police headquarters. In exchange for the news which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready to hear the details about any case which the detective was investigating. Though he did not interfere with the cases, he had a great deal of knowledge and experience, and was sometimes able to give a helpful hint or suggestion.

On this particular evening, Lestrade had spoken about the weather and what was in the newspapers. Then he went quiet, thoughtfully smoking his cigar. Holmes looked keenly at him.

"Are you doing anything remarkable right now?" he asked.

"Oh, no, Mr. Holmes - nothing very particular."

"Then tell me about it."

Lestrade laughed. "Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that there IS something on my mind. And yet it is such an absurd business, that I didn't want to bother you with it. On the other hand, although it is trivial, it is certainly strange. I know that you have a taste for anything that is unusual. But, in my opinion, this is more Dr. Watson's kind of business."

"Disease?" I asked.