...
"Your depravity really does know no bounds, Sherlock."
Mycroft's withering gaze cast itself onto John.
"And you, Doctor. I had such high hopes for you, but I suppose my brother's record for corrupting everything he...touches...remains untarnished. I admit, after this episode, I have lost all faith in his possible integration into normal society. My last remaining plea would be to keep him occupied, but you appear to be having no problems with that line of...action. Good day."
With a last disdainful glance at the rooms chagrined occupants, the eldest Holmes swept out the door.
However, John couldn't help but notice a puzzling fact. Mycroft had appeared thoroughly disgusted by their behavior. He had informed them to excruciating detail just how utterly repulsive they most definitely were. Yet despite the man's horror at the misuse of what was practically his third arm, he had apparently forgotten just how instrumental the possession had been in the proceedings. For after snatching it indignantly from Sherlock's easily relenting grip, and throughout his entire degrading speech, upon it the occupant of a small position in the British government had never relaxed his grip. In fact, if the good Doctor had not gone completely mad (which was arguable) he had even glimpsed a long aristocratic finger impulsively stroking around the handle as he spoke.
And from the slightly quirking lips of a certain consulting detective, he knew he wasn't quite alone in his subsequent deduction.