The Seven-Per-Cent Solution Page #9

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Oh, she will emerge unscathed.

Women are like cats.

Have you never noticed?

Invariably,

they land on their feet.

Oh, come, come. You're unfair.

She's been through a great deal, Holmes.

And not so much as thanked us

for saving her from a deal worse,

to say nothing of enquiring after any hurts

we may have suffered in her behalf.

I've come to a conclusion

about Miss Deveraux.

A theory based on Dr. Freud's techniques.

I believe that a woman

of her caliber- a lady-

would not descend to a life of shame

without a valid cause.

This isn't a train.

It isn't, is it?

We are going back to London.

You are, my dear chap.

I'm not.

At least not for the time,

anyway.

I need some time to myself, Watson.

A little holiday.

I don't like this, Holmes.

I don't like it at all.

When will you return?

Oh, one day.

In the meantime,

inform my brother of my decision,

and tell Mrs. Hudson

my rooms are not to be touched.

Is that clear?

- Holmes-

- Rest assured, my dear fellow.

It's only that I must complete my recovery.

Give my best to Mrs. Watson.

Good-bye, To by.

But how will you live?

When my arm is better,

you would do well to follow the concert

career of a violinist named Sigerson.

But my readers-

your readers-

What Will I tell them?

Anything you like.

Tell them I was murdered

by my mathematics tutor.

They'll never believe you,

in any case.

Good-bye, Watson!

Good-bye, Holmes!

Good-bye!

A chair, sir?

- Oh, yes. Thank you.

- This way, please.

Thank you.

Are you surprised?

Well, I confess I am.

I was not aware that you were

bound for Budapest

or even contemplating going abroad.

It is an odd coincidence.

But I'm not sorry for it.

Journeys alone are always so tedious,

don't you find?

Especially when they are long.

Will this be a long journey?

That all depends.

But I do think it will seem shorter

if there are two of us.

Don't you?

I hope it will not seem too short.

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