Holmes took his time stepping through the diagram that he had been drawn, and some time had passed before he returned to the circle of the fire. Neither Mrs Kendrick nor I had been much inclined for conversation, both of us being quite spent with the day's activities, and we were both contented to lounge before the fire in a doze while we waited.

It was from this comfortable state that I was forced to unwillingly rouse myself when Holmes drew near my seat. "My dear doctor," said he, his voice low, "what is your opinion?"

"I have no opinion on the case," I replied drowsily. "It remains quite a mystery to me."

Holmes sighed and motioned vaguely to the still form of our visitor. "I meant your medical opinion," he clarified. "There are not enough facts regarding this case for even me to come to a conclusion at this point."

"At the moment," I replied, "I am more concerned for the state of your health than I am for hers. She seems to be of strong constitution and resolute determination." Holmes's face had been alternating flush and pallor throughout the evening and the unusual nature of it concerned me enough to make comment on it.

"It has grown late, and her landlady will no doubt be growing anxious at her long disappearance," Holmes remarked, dismissing my comment about his health out of hand. "We shall have no further news of the case tonight, and perhaps it would be best for you to see her home and return there yourself."

We were speaking softly, so as not to disturb Mrs Kendrick, and I stole a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. I was surprised to see that I had spent much more time dozing than I had guessed and it really was quite late. Holmes had dimmed the gas while Mrs Kendrick and I slept, and the room was bathed in a tranquil dimness. Had I not had other duties to draw me out of my chair, I would have been loath to leave it.

I stretched myself out, easing the stiffness that had formed due to length of time I had sat unmoving in the chair, while Holmes increased the light and began to once again examine the note that Mrs Kendrick had given him earlier. Now that he had determined what he considered the best course of action, he was obviously leaving me to see to the details of the execution of it.

I had had intentions of rousing the lady gently, so as not to startle her, but she was evidently a very light sleeper, for no sooner had I started toward her when she fixed me with her clear blue eyes. "Your footsteps are different than those of Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson," she noted wearily, brushing a hand across her eyes. "It your leg that was wounded, was it not?"

I made no comment, and neither did my companion, absorbed as he was with other work, but, once again, I was quite surprised as to her powers of observation. Although they were nowhere near as keen as those of Sherlock Holmes, if any could be, they were still something quite remarkable. I attributed it to her nursing experiences and to what had earlier appeared to be a near-photographic memory.

I offered her an arm to help her up out of the chair, for her hat and wrapper had been set aside. I intended to have her dress herself for the journey while I called for a cab. She offered no resistance to the help, but rather took my hand gratefully, and this caused me some concern, given her earlier insistences upon her independence.

My concerns were shown to be well founded when I had helped her upright. No sooner had she gained her feet than her face paled alarmingly and she swayed, leaning herself heavily upon my arm. I thought that she should fall away in a dead faint, but for my steadying hands. I lowered her immediately back to her seat and, kneeling beside her, began to rub at her wrists vigorously, having nothing better immediately at hand.

"Holmes," I called rather sharply.

My friend half-turned, surprised that I should disturb him in his study. "Whatever is the matter, Watson?" he inquired with some irritation.

"My bag at once," I ordered, taking no account of his reaction to the interruption.

"I only stood up rather too fast," my patient protested, rather too weakly for my comfort.

Holmes had obeyed my order immediately, abandoning his mental pursuits once he had grasped the situation, and he set the bag near my knee. I felt for the lady's pulse with one hand, while with the other I reached for the vial of smelling salts, waving them gently beneath her nose.

She coughed as the fumes wafted up to her, and Holmes looked over at us in some concern. I looked pointedly at the carafe of water sitting on the sideboard, and he noted my gaze, pouring out a glass and bringing it over to us and pressing it upon Mrs Kendrick. She bristled slightly at the attentions being paid to her, but this was of comfort, as it meant she was regaining her faculties. Still, I did not wish to put her under the strain of a journey, even one so short as the cab ride to her home.

"I think that perhaps we would best be served by spending the night," I suggested gently. "You have overtaxed yourself and the hour is quite late."

"I insist upon it," declared Holmes firmly.

Mrs Kendrick was in no position to press the point, and she was aware of it. "I should not want to put you to any trouble," said she with a resigned air, determined to put up at least a token of resistance.

"It will not be trouble in the least," I assured her.

"Your room is freshly made up, Watson," Holmes informed me, "and aside from the usual clutter, mine is fresh as well. You shall take your customary place, my good doctor, and Mrs Kendrick shall have mine."

"And what of yourself, Mr Holmes?"

"It is of little consequence," replied Sherlock Holmes. "As Doctor Watson can confirm, I often forego sleep when occupied with a problem. And in any case, the sofa can be made up quite comfortably."

"It's settled then," said I standing and returning the vial of salts to my bag. "I must run home for a few moments and inform my maid where I am, in case patients come to call. On the way I shall stop by your lodgings and have your landlady gather up a few things for you."

"Oh, I can't imagine that she will be there," Mrs Kendrick informed me, taking up the pencil and paper left on the table from her earlier drawings. She wrote out her address for me, and I was surprised to find that it was not far from my own home. "She was called away to the country on account of a sister who suddenly took quite ill. It was that which gave me occasion to take my leave from the house. She had intended to send one of her own maids from home to stay with me until she returned and I slipped out before the girl could arrive."

"Then she shall perform the same function," I replied, gathering up my hat and coat. "Until I return, you are to trouble yourself no more with the problem you have brought to us." Here I fixed Sherlock Holmes with a stern gaze. I was leaving Mrs Kendrick in his charge until I returned.

Holmes laughed. "Have no worries, my good doctor, I swear that not another word about the matter shall cross my lips until morning," he swore. Later how he came to rue those words.

"I shall hold you to it," said I clapping my hat upon my head and dashing down the stairs. I had heard a cab stopping in the street below and the clatter of feet as the passengers were discharged. I hoped to catch it before it drove on.

The driver was kind enough to wait while I stopped first at the lady's house. The maid sent over by the captain's wife was relieved to hear that her charge was safe and that she herself would have no further duties until at least the next day. She obligingly gathered up a toilette for Mrs Kendrick.

I was about to mount my cab and start for my own home, when the maid appeared quite suddenly in the doorway. "Doctor," she called out, and I realized that I had not given her my name and had only told her the barest necessities of the situation. Perhaps it was for the best.

I descended from the carriage as she rushed to me, thinking that she had likely forgotten something. I was correct in my assumption, for she handed me an envelope. "This arrived for Mrs Kendrick late tonight, dropped off by a visitor. He instructed me to give it to her as soon as she returned. Perhaps it's important," said she. "I shouldn't want to keep it from her if it was important."

I made a few further inquiries, assured the girl that I would deliver the note, and started off for my own home. Gathering my things and leaving instructions for the maid, I started again for Baker Street. I would hold Holmes to his oath, for I would not have Mrs Kendrick further troubled with the problem until morning at the very least. If I had had my way, I should not have had her troubled with it at all, but I knew that was quite impossible.

I returned to find the little domestic scene I had left was quite undisturbed. It was one of the few glimpses that I have had into what sort of a husband Sherlock Holmes might have made. His Bohemian habits were so well defined that it was rare to catch him in a domestic mood, but he had apparently taken a fancy to his latest client, for he was sitting with his violin on his knee, playing a concerto that happened to be a favourite of mine, while Mrs Kendrick listened intently.

"You have returned to us already, Watson?" Holmes noted upon my entrance.

"I have." I draped my coat over my arm and took up the bags that I had carried up from the cab.

"You will take your old room?" asked Holmes, laying aside his violin.

"I should think so," I confirmed, not wishing for Mrs Kendrick to have to navigate the stairs that led up to my room.

"Your medical bag is waiting there," declared Holmes, leaning back in the knowledge that he had been right in his conclusions yet again.

I carried Mrs Kendrick's bag into Holmes's room, pleased to note that he had already undertaken some small rearrangements. He had removed or turned the portraits of criminal minds that usually adorned the walls and had turned back the covers so that the bed was prepared. He had also hidden away some of his more macabre trinkets, although I did not take the time to ascertain which he had determined unsuitable and which he had left out.

Between Holmes and I, we situated Mrs Kendrick comfortably in Holmes's rooms. There was no repeat of the previous incident, and I was quite comfortable leaving her to make her night-time preparations alone, for Holmes and I were only in the next room, quite within calling distance should she require something.

Seated again at his customary place near the fire, Holmes tamped down a bit of shag tobacco into his pipe. "I think, my dear doctor," said he looking across at me, "that this is one of the most singular cases that has come to my attention yet."

Remembering the envelope in my pocket, I commented, "I should think that it will grow a good deal more interesting to you come the morning."

"Why, Watson, what have you discovered?" he asked in delight, fully expecting me to divulge what I had learned.

I finished my drink and rose to head up the stairs to my room. "I believe you were the one who said that not another word of the case should cross your lips until morning," said I, retiring. It had been a strenuous day, and I was quite exhausted. There would be no more of the case until morning.