"I trust the matter is not so
grave as you suppose. How long has he been ill?"
"About three days."
"Is he delirious?"
"Occasionally."
"Tut, tut! This sounds serious. It would be inhuman not to
answer his call. I very much resent any interruption to my work,
Dr. Watson, but this case is certainly exceptional. I will come
with you at once."
I remembered Holmes's injunction.
"I have another appointment," said I.
"Very good. I will go alone. I have a note of Mr. Holmes's
address. You can rely upon my being there within half an hour at
most."
It was with a sinking heart that I reentered Holmes's bedroom.
For all that I knew the worst might have happened in my absence.
To my enormous relief, he had improved greatly in the interval.
His appearance was as ghastly as ever, but all trace of delirium
had left him and he spoke in a feeble voice, it is true, but with
even more than his usual crispness and lucidity.
"Well, did you see him, Watson?"
"Yes; he is coming."
"Admirable, Watson! Admirable! You are the best of messengers."
"He wished to return with me."
"That would never do, Watson. That would be obviously
impossible.
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