Chapter IX 

A Break in the Chain 

It was late in the afternoon before I woke, strengthened and refreshed. Sherlock Holmes still sat exactly as I had left him, save that he had laid aside his violin and was deep in a book. He looked across at me, as I stirred, and I noticed that his face was dark and troubled. 

"You have slept soundly," he said. "I feared that our talk would wake you." 

"I heard nothing," I answered. "Have you had fresh news, then?" 

"Unfortunately, no. I confess that I am surprised and disappointed. I expected something definite by this time. Wiggins has just been up to report. He says that no trace can be found of the launch. It is a provoking check, for every hour is of importance." 

"Can I do anything? I am perfectly fresh now, and quite ready for another night's outing." 

"No, we can do nothing. We can only wait. If we go ourselves, the message might come in our absence, and delay be caused. You can do what you will, but I must remain on guard." 

"Then I shall run over to Camberwell and call upon Mrs. Cecil Forrester. She asked me to, yesterday." 

"On Mrs. Cecil Forrester?" asked Holmes, with the twinkle of a smile in his eyes. 

"Well, of course Miss Morstan too. They were anxious to hear what happened." 

"I would not tell them too much," said Holmes. "Women are never to be entirely trusted,--not the best of them." 

I did not pause to argue over this atrocious sentiment. "I shall be back in an hour or two," I remarked. 
who is reading?
 he had laid aside his violin and was deep in a book