I think we're going to go ahead and assume this takes place before "Lovers."
For Watson, the dawn was silent and full of regret. For Holmes, the dawn was just silent, as he was asleep. Watson sat and fretted over breakfast. Holmes sat up in bed and attempted to flatten his mussed hair. He glanced at the sheets. Stained. Explaining that to Mrs. Hudson would be interesting. He dressed, trying not to think. During breakfast, Holmes did not mention the previous night. Watson wondered if it had been a wild, madman's dream.

At least, until he was obligated to concoct an excuse for Mrs. Hudson regarding the inexplicably ripped off buttons on his shirt.