IX. A Break in the Chain

           ItwaslateintheafternoonbeforeIwoke,strengthenedandrefreshed.SherlockHolmesstillsatexactlyasIhadlefthim,savethathehadlaidasidehisviolinandwasdeepinabook.Helookedacrossatme,asIstirred,andInoticedthathisfacewasdarkandtroubled.

           “Youhavesleptsoundly,”hesaid.“Ifearedthatourtalkwouldwakeyou.”

           “Iheardnothing,”Ianswered.“Haveyouhadfreshnews,then?”

           “Unfortunately,no.IconfessthatIamsurprisedanddisappointed.Iexpectedsomethingdefinitebythistime.Wigginshasjustbeenuptoreport.Hesaysthatnotracecanbefoundofthelaunch.Itisaprovokingcheck,foreveryhourisofimportance.”

           “CanIdoanything?Iamperfectlyfreshnow,andquitereadyforanothernight’souting.”

           “No,wecandonothing.Wecanonlywait.Ifwegoourselves,themessagemightcomeinourabsence,anddelaybecaused.Youcandowhatyouwill,butImustremainonguard.”

           “ThenIshallrunovertoCamberwellandcalluponMrs.CecilForrester.Sheaskedmeto,yesterday.”

           “OnMrs.CecilForrester?”askedHolmes,withthetwinkleofasmileinhiseyes.

           “Well,ofcourseMissMorstantoo.Theywereanxioustohearwhathappened.”

           “Iwouldnottellthemtoomuch,”saidHolmes.“Womenarenevertobeentirelytrusted,—notthebestofthem.”

           Ididnotpausetoargueoverthisatrocioussentiment.“Ishallbebackinanhourortwo,”Iremarked.