STRAMONIUM 



The remark rather overreached me at the mo 

 ment, for I was holding my hat on with one hand, 

 and its flapping in my face interfered with the 

 proper reflective processes. 



The old shed proved to be some kind of a 

 forlorn sheepfold and hayrick combined, which 

 had evidently been long unused. It was only 

 partly enclosed, for its roof was half gone, and one 

 end of it was open to the elements. What was 

 formerly the entrance was flanked by two great 

 weeds, six feet high, very green and lush, and still 

 bearing a few large white trumpet-flowers, that 

 shone through the gathering gloom quite funere 

 ally, I thought. 



&quot; Stramonium,&quot; said the Doctor, actually stop 

 ping to investigate it as if he had met an old 

 friend. &quot; I never saw it in bloom so late.&quot; 



With sullen disregard of his triviality I got 

 inside the pen, and, finding that one end of it was 

 dry with a thatch over it, I leaned up against one 

 of the old posts and remarked : 



&quot; There must be a house somewhere to match 

 this outwork. We might as well find it before 

 night sets in.&quot; 



&quot; It has set in,&quot; said the Doctor. &quot; We should 

 probably wander round for an hour looking for it. 

 You cannot see twenty feet ahead of you.&quot; 



&quot;That s cheerful,&quot; I said. &quot;We can t stay 

 here that s certain. I m wet through and chilled 

 to the bone. You seem to have forgotten that 

 I m your patient.&quot; 



He had put one of the trumpet-flowers in the 



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