“Thank you,” said Holmes.  “I don’t think that I need intrude upon your time and patience any more.”  With a last word of caution that he should say nothing as to our researches, we turned our faces westward once more.

The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch a hasty luncheon at a restaurant.  A news-bill at the entrance announced “Kensington Outrage.  Murder by a Madman,” and the contents of the paper showed that Mr. Horace Harker had got his account into print after all.  Two columns were occupied with a highly sensational and flowery rendering of the whole incident.  Holmes propped it against the cruet-stand and read it while he ate.  Once or twice he chuckled.

“This is all right, Watson,” said he.  “Listen to this: 

“It is satisfactory to know that there can be no difference of opinion upon this case, since Mr. Lestrade, one of the most experienced members of the official force, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the well known consulting expert, have each come to the conclusion that the grotesque series of incidents, which have ended in so tragic a fashion, arise from lunacy rather than from deliberate crime.  No explanation save mental aberration can cover the facts.

“The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution, if you only know how to use it.  And now, if you have quite finished, we will hark back to Kensington and see what the manager of Harding Brothers has to say on the matter.”

The founder of that great emporium proved to be a brisk, crisp little person, very dapper and quick, with a clear head and a ready tongue.

“Yes, sir, I have already read the account in the evening papers.  Mr. Horace Harker is a customer of ours.  We supplied him with the bust some months ago.  We ordered three busts of that sort from Gelder & Co., of Stepney.  They are all sold now.  To whom?  Oh, I daresay by consulting our sales book we could very easily tell you.  Yes, we have the entries here.  One to Mr. Harker you see, and one to Mr. Josiah Brown, of Laburnum Lodge, Laburnum Vale, Chiswick, and one to Mr. Sandeford, of Lower Grove Road, Reading.  No, I have never seen this face which you show me in the photograph.  You would hardly forget it, would you, sir, for I’ve seldom seen an uglier.  Have we any Italians on the staff?  Yes, sir, we have several among our workpeople and cleaners.  I daresay they might get a peep at that sales book if they wanted to.  There is no particular reason for keeping a watch upon that book.  Well, well, it’s a very strange business, and I hope that you will let me know if anything comes of your inquiries.”

Holmes had taken several notes during Mr. Harding’s evidence, and I could see that he was thoroughly satisfied by the turn which affairs were taking.  He made no remark, however, save that, unless we hurried, we should be late for our appointment with Lestrade.  Sure enough, when we reached Baker Street the detective was already there, and we found him pacing up and down in a fever of impatience.  His look of importance showed that his day’s work had not been in vain.