I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned back again, Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me from across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first time and the last time in my life. Certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collar ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.