Scene 21

INT. THE SITTING-ROOM AT 221b BAKER STREET.

As before.

RYDER: They’d gone. They’d all gone.

WATSON: To Breckinridge’s of Covent Garden.

HOLMES: And there had been more than one with a barred tail.

RYDER: There were two. Maggie told me she couldn’t ever tell them apart. I went to Breckinridge as fast as I could run, but not one word would he tell me about where they’d gone. I went back again and again - and to Maggie’s too, to see if she knew. She thinks I’m going mad. Sometimes I think she’s right. And now... and now I am a branded thief, without hardly having touched the wealth I sold my character for. God help me! God help me! ( Sobs)

A long moment.

HOLMES: Get out.

RYDER: What, sir?

HOLMES: Get out.

RYDER: Oh, heaven bless you.

HOLMES: No more words. Get out!

Panting heavily, Ryder rises.

RYDER: I, er...

But he thinks better of it, and bolts for the door. He opens it, scoots through, slams it behind him. A moment.

HOLMES: ( A weary sigh) WATSON: Well, well. My dear Holmes.

HOLMES: I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies.

He relights his pipe.

HOLMES: I suppose I am compounding a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. Send him to jail now and you make him a jailbird for life. ( A throwaway) Besides, it’s the season of forgiveness.

WATSON: Holmes, you amaze me sometimes.

HOLMES: I’m delighted to hear it. ( Springing up) Come on - get your hat.

A violin passage takes us to: