a
quarter past one
Maybe you 'll succeed in the attempt ! '' Holmes threw a book at him , which narrowly missed Hicks as he banged the door shut behind him , and my partner immediately locked the door , put the key in his pocket , pulled a couple of cushions off a couch , placed them on the piano , perched himself up on top of the improvised seat , with his feet on the ivory keys , and then calmly proceeded to fill his well-worn pipe with some of that strong-smelling shag tobacco that he generally used when he started a meditation , or pipe-dream , just as you prefer to call it . I knew what was coming , so I opened one of the windows all the way up , to let out the terrific fumes of the uncivilized stuff that he smoked , while he curled himself up comfortably in his strange position on top of the piano , with his chin resting on one hand , and his elbow on some sheet-music , and then smoked away like a steam-engine , as immovable as a bronze statue , while he thought and pondered and meditated , and then thought some more , about the stolen diamond cuff-buttons , -- with me all the time sitting on the couch like a bump on a log , trying my best to figure out the conflicting testimony advanced by the fourteen different servants and the seven other persons . Time rolled on , and the clock on the marble mantel struck half-past eleven , -- twelve , -- half-past twelve , -- one , -- and at length came to a quarter past one , while I could n't dope out who swiped the cuff-buttons to save my neck ! `` I 've got it ! '' shouted Holmes suddenly , as he jumped off the piano , scattering the sheet-music right and left , and paced up and down in front of the mantel , while I heaved a sigh of relief . `` Time for luncheon , ai n't it , Holmesy , old boy ? ''