Arthur Conan Doyle, circa 1895 Credit: Getty Creative A cold, button-down night. Thick, jaundiced fog laps at the windowpanes. There’s a furious hammering at the door – “Open up, d--- it! It’s Professor Challenger!” A bear of a man stands in the doorway: massive chest and shoulders, flashing eyes and a beard like a fortified privet hedge. Except – something’s not quite right. The beard is clumsily stuck on, and starting to come adrift. Beneath those bushy brows, the man is trying to stifle giggles. Wearily, you step aside to let him in. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle could be a trying guest.