From comparing notes afterwards, it was but an hour and a quarter. It appeared to me that the night must have almost gone and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position. Yet my nerves were worked up to the highest pitch of tension. And my hearing was so acute that I could not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the bank director. From my position, I could look over the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly, my eyes caught the glint of a light. At first
Let me read you a classic Sherlock Holmes detective story, written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
I'll read the original text and stop regularly in order to explain what is happening so you can follow the story.
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