"Let me explain," Holmes said, filling his pipe with fresh shag tobacco and using his long, lean fingers to reach for the Vestas on the table beside him. "Before you glanced at me I noticed your eyes following a crow as it soared over the dreary buildings of Baker Street, which stagnate in the midst of a monotonous winter. Your eyes then fell into a vacant trance for a moment, as your fingers tightened around the book you hold, a history of the American Revolution. Your thumb rubbed the cover, which portrays an embellished eagle, the symbolic representation of the might and dignity of Britain's democratic national cousin. Your quick glance towards me still portrayed a face in imaginative thought and it was, as I said, simplicity itself to deduce I had been included in your cogitation, twinned with the eagle. The slight raise to your eyebrows conveyed to me that once again you were concerned regarding my tendency to not fair well when cases are few. Thus combining those clues whilst acknowledging certain of my facial features, I stated my opinion it was more reasonable to fashion me a restless hawk than eagle."

"Holmes," I said, staggered by his almost mystical ratiocination, "you constantly amaze me."

Holmes tapped his pipe, emitting foul blue smoke, against the window. "That is all very well, Watson, but it is the approaching client whom I wish will amaze me. Your concern is apt. I do seek stimulation, to drag me from my ennui and bring life to my bored and restless brain."

"A client?"

"Yes. At first I merely thought the man was inebriated, due to his awkward and clumsy gait, but I see now as he comes closer to our doorstep that he is instead gripped tightly by frantic shock and disbelief. Ah! The sound of Mrs. Hudson approaching our sitting room door! If fate is kind, she shall have a card for us to read, and a client for us to meet!"