"There are three hundred pounds in gold, and seven hundred in notes," he
said.
Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his notebook, and handed it to
him.
"And mademoiselle's address?" he asked.
"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood."
Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he, thoughtfully.
"Was the photograph a cabinet?"
"It was."
"Then, good-night, your majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have some
good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he added, as the wheels of the
royal brougham rolled down the street. "If you will be good enough to call
to-morrow afternoon, at three o'clock, I should like to chat this little
matter over with you."
II
At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not yet
returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house shortly
after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire, however,
with the intention of awaiting him, however long he might be. I was
already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though it was surrounded by
none of the grim and strange features which were associated with the two
crimes which I have already recorded, still, the nature of the case and
the exalted station of his client gave it a character of its own. Indeed,
apart from the nature of the investigation which my friend had on hand,
there was something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen,
incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his system of
work, and to follow the quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the
most inextricable mysteries.
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