"He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. He picked up the poker and straightened it out again with a sudden effort. "Now, Watson, let us have some breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to the lawyers." That afternoon we travelled to Stoke Moran. The old house was grey with age, and one wing was almost in ruins. Holmes examined the outside of the three bedroom windows with great care. "There is no sign of any workman here," he said quietly. "The repairs were an excuse to move the lady into that room." Inside, he studied the second bedroom for a long time in silence. A bell-rope hung beside the bed. He pulled it. "It is a dummy," he said. "It is not connected to any bell. And this bed is clamped to the floor; it cannot be moved. Notice also the small ventilator in the wall above it. It does not open to the outside air — it opens into your stepfather's room. That is a very strange kind of ventilator."