The King Diamond by Fred M. White — Read

That eminent man of science and savant with a reputation extending over the whole of the civilised world occupied, in the intervals between his expeditions, what ought to have been a luxurious flat in Devonshire Mansions. With a fine suite of rooms adapted eminently to social purposes, the place had been turned into something little better than a rabbit warren. There was a kitchen devoted to such casual cookery as was called for from time to time, and the smallest bedroom in the house where Sir Hercules slept on a straw mattress was practically the only living-room in the flat. The rest was given over entirely to collections of various kinds of curiosities from all over the world, whilst the drawing-room and dining-room were devoted to research work. Out of one of these led a small room which was lined throughout from floor to ceiling with cages filled with rats of various colours, ranging through the spectrum from white to jet black. These Sir Hercules looked after himself, and nobody was allowed to touch them; indeed, there was no one to touch them, because it was the great scientist's whim to live in his flat entirely by himself--even Bly had been obliged to obtain a temporary lodging somewhere near at hand.

It was here, then, that Sir Hercules worked when he was in London. What food he needed he obtained from a little restaurant hard by, and if he were engaged upon something more intriguing than usual he would cook something for himself over the gas stove in the kitchen and eat it standing. It was his regular habit to shut himself up in the flat after a frugal dinner and refuse to answer the door even to the most pressing of callers. Moreover, he would take the telephone receiver from its hook, so that he lived behind his stout outer oak in a state of total seclusion, much as if he had lived in the centre of a desert.