`Mysterious Affair at Lower Norwood. Disappearance of a Well Known Builder.
"Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred at Lower Norwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime.
There have been further and sinister developments in the investigation at Norwood. Besides the signs of a struggle in the room of the unfortunate builder it is now known that the French windows of his bedroom (which is on the ground floor) were found to be open, that there were marks as if some bulky object had been dragged across to the wood-pile, and, finally, it is asserted that charred remains have been found among the charcoal ashes of the fire.
Jonas Oldacre, I stayed at an hotel in Norwood, and came to my business from there.
The cottage from the window of which the Misses Williams had looked out stands, and has stood for many a year, in that pleasant suburban district which lies between Norwood, Anerley, and Forest Hill.
To this end he had given up his house in Weymouth Street, and had taken this opportunity of moving himself, his scientific instruments, and his two charming daughters (he had been a widower for some years) into the more peaceful atmosphere of Norwood.
I hope that you will find Norwood a pleasant residence."
Spenlow remarked, on this occasion, when we concluded our business, that he should have been happy to have seen me at his house at Norwood to celebrate our becoming connected, but for his domestic arrangements being in some disorder, on account of the expected return of his daughter from finishing her education at Paris.
When the day arrived, my very carpet-bag was an object of veneration to the stipendiary clerks, to whom the house at Norwood was a sacred mystery.
Not only was I soon as well known on the Norwood Road as the postmen on that beat, but I pervaded London likewise.
The major had retired some little time before, and lived at Upper Norwood
. We communicated with him, of course, but he did not even know that his brother officer was in England."
'ouses and took what we wanted and buried moce of the people, but up that way, Norwood
way, there's 'ouses with the glass in the windows still, and the furniture not touched--all dusty and falling to pieces--and the bones of the people lying, some in bed, some about the 'ouse, jest as the Purple Death left 'em five-and-twenty years ago.