"I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the
matter. I have the honour to wish you a very good-morning." He
bowed, and, turning away without observing the hand which the
King had stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his
chambers.

And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom
of Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were
beaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the
cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And
when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when he refers to her
photograph, it is always under the honourable title of the woman.



ADVENTURE II. THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE

I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the
autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a
very stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair.
With an apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when
Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door
behind me.

"You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear
Watson," he said cordially.

"I was afraid that you were engaged."

"So I am. Very much so."