And here is a snippet of my favorite book Sherlock Holmes. It is from The Speckled Band.
The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that our door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of the professional and of the agricultural, having a black top hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand. So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross-bar of the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the other of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin, fleshless nos, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce bird of prey.
“Which of you is Holmes?” asked this apparition.
“My name, sire; but you have the advantage of me,” said my companion quietly.
“I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran.”
“Indeed, Doctor,” said Holmes blandly. “Pray take a seat.”
“I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I have traced her. What has she been saying to you?”
It is a little cold for the time of year,” said Holmes.
“What has she been saying to you?” screamed the old man furiously.
“But I have heard that the crocuses promise wall,” continued my companion imperturbably.
“Ha! you put me off, do you?” said our new visitor, taking a step forward and shaking his hunting-crop. “I know you, you scoundrel! I have heard of you before. You are Homes, The meddler.”
My friend smiled.
“Holmes the busybody!”
His smile broadened.
“Holmes, the Scotland Yard jack-n-office!”
Holmes chuckled heartily. “Your conversation is most entertaining, ” said he. “when you go out close the door, for there is a decided draft.
“I will go when I have said my say. Don’t you dare try to meddle with my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here, I traced her! I am a dangerous man to fall foul of! See here. ” He stepped swiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands.
“See that you keep yourself out of my grip,” he snarled, and hurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room.
“He seems a very amiable person,” said Holmes, laughing. “I am not quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that my grip was not much more feeble than his own.” As he spoke he picked up the steel poker, and with a sudden effort straightened it out again. “Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official detective force!”
Fiona Everest: Daily Musings from Ireland 