Classicly

A curious woven strip falling from one 8shoulder over the right breast bound his middle. Save for this, the man was naked, and I saw that some strange torture had twisted and distorted his wrists and hands. Moreover, his body bore in several places the mark of hot iron, and my gorge rose at the thought of the infernal cruelties that had been practised.

Meanwhile Lestrade, with something of a woman’s touch, and in that was I ever far behind my comrade, well-known as he is for skill and nicety in sickness,—Gaston, I say, had helped the stranger down, had placed a packet beneath his head, and now stood waiting, helpless to do more and pitiful of the drops of agony that stood bead-like upon the forehead of the dying man.