Dr. John Watson

But aren't you forgetting, Sir George, the small, unseen, tube-like passage that invariably ran under all the rooms, except the coal plunge?

Of course.

A hypocaust?

No, what in the thunder is a hypocaust?

A smallish tunnel lined with red paving squares, which ran from a furnace outside the buildings under all the principal rooms of a Roman bath.

If we can discover some loose tiling in this floor, we may thank the ancient Romans for inventing what our poor, retarded civilization considers a modern improvement, namely central heating.

Oh, it's discouraging.

I've dug up two dozen spots.

Cheer up, Watson.

At least the activity's kept you from freezing to death.

Yes, it's ruined my trousers.

Good thing I was wearing my old suit.

I say, the light's getting dimmer.

Holmes, the second lantern is about burnt out.

Keep digging, Watson.

It's our only chance.

I say, Mr. Holmes, could you come over here a minute?

I think I've found a sort of grazing under this last batch of bricks.

Good Lord, let's see.

Yes.