"You were not wholly taken with her? Unusual."

I searched for the words in which to put my very vague impressions. "It is unfair to judge her in her present condition; yet I confess I could not warm to her unreservedly. It seemed to me that she lacked that sweet spirituality which is the ultimate hallmark of a woman of refinement."

"You found her harsh, in short. I fancy you are right. Refinement is probably not her strong suit. And yet she has a remarkable intelligence for a woman, and a certain physical courage most unusual in her sex."

"You find her attractive?" I asked, surprised at even this guarded encomium from my traditionally misogynistic friend.

"I find her a puzzle. But I'm afraid it may prove one more suited to the talents of an alienist than to a middle-aged criminal detective. I've had clients who had lost their jewels, their husbands, or their fiances; but one who has lost her past is a new experience."

"But you said you did not think her mad."

"She is clearly capable of logical reasoning and a certain subtlety of observation. Amnesia is not necessarily madness in the padded cell and straight-jacket sense."

"Then you find her problem to be medical, not criminal?"

"It is medical, surely; however, we cannot yet eliminate the possibility of some criminal connection to it. Indeed we may not. I shall be quite interested to hear what Lestrade digs up in Camberwell. No, I shan't come in with you, Mrs. Watson is much better equipped than I to minister to your current needs. My apologies for keeping you from your much needed rest for so long."

I got out before my residence, and waved as the cab bore him away. "Let me know how it turns out," I cried.

***

It was close to midnight as I sat in my study in my home in Queen Anne Street. My wife and the servants had all gone to bed. A long nap in the afternoon had made up for the exhaustion produced by the previous night and morning, but had left me too wakeful to join them. The driest article I could find in the British Medical Journal was showing some prospect of lulling me to sleep, when a ring at the door blasted hopes of an uneventful evening. Midnight calls were invariably patients with emergencies. I was considering the charms of the life of a government clerk as I went in my shirtsleeves to answer the door myself.