DERLETH, August - The Adventure of the Retired Novelist (A Solar Pons story)文档.DOCVIP

THE ADVENTURE OF THE RETIRED NOVELIST A Solar Pons story By August Derleth (From Regarding Sherlock Holmes: The Adventures of Solar Pons, Copyright 1945 by August Derleth) Version 1.0 - January 18, 2002 THOUGH SOLAR PONS does not consider it among his best adventures, the case of the late famed man of letters, Mr. Thomas Wilgreve, has always held for me a fascination of which I cannot rid myself. It was late one night in October, 1926, when Pons and I were returning from Covent Garden that Pons gripped my arm, not far from our lodgings in Praed Street, brought me to a halt, and pointed upward to our windows, bright with light. Silhouetted against one of them was the profile head of a man. Pons studied it for a moment; then he turned to me with raised eyebrows. Do you recognize that profile, Parker? Well, it is certainly not John Barrymores--unless he is in disguise, I answered. I shrugged and admitted that I did not recognize him, despite the feeling that there was something very familiar about the silhouette. In his own field he is a distinguished gentleman. That long, singularly lean face, that straight nose, those bushy eyebrows and that affected mane of hair all suggest a picture reproduced in rotogravure by the metropolitan papers at least once a month. What would you say if I were to suggest the author of Victoria? Thomas Wilgreve! Of course--I knew I had seen that profile somewhere. It does suggest Barrymore, admitted Pons, smiling dryly. In spite of his leonine and impressive appearance, Thomas Wilgreve was very taciturn and almost humble in bearing, as is the case with so many men of genuine stature who have little inclination to be pompous and self-important, and no stomach at all for arrogance. He apologized for taking the liberty to invade our rooms, singling out Pons by the same means used by Pons to identify him, and explained that it was very seldom that he left his home in St. Johns Wood and that, once having left it, he was loath to return without a