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"The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a

lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the

well-known adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt

familiar to you."

"Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes without

opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of

docketing all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it

was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he could not

at once furnish information. In this case I found her biography

sandwiched in between that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a

staff-commander who had written a monograph upon the deep-sea

fishes.

"Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year

1858. Contralto-hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera of

Warsaw-yes! Retired from operatic stage-ha! Living in

London-quite so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became entangled

with this young person, wrote her some compromising letters, and

is now desirous of getting those letters back."