"You have really got it?" he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either shoulder, and looking eagerly into his face.
"Not yet."
"But you have hopes?"
"I have hopes."
"Then come. I am all impatience to be gone."
"We must have a cab."
"No, my brougham is waiting."
"Then that will simplify matters." We descended, and started off once more for Briony Lodge.
"Irene Adler is married," remarked Holmes.
"Married! When?"