It was a wet, blustery day in March, and Holmes, who was in a superlative mood, was improvising dreamily upon his violin, when our client arrived, quite wet and a state of extreme agitation. Holmes's client, I should more properly say, particularly in light of the first words out of his mouth, which were not any more polite form of greeting, but rather: "I must insist upon speaking to you about this matter alone, Mr Holmes."

Holmes, who had laid aside his violin, responded at once that he had perfect trust in me, but the man cut him off. "I've already had my own physician tell me that I'm mad, and I won't have it, I tell you."

Holmes exchanged an amused glance with me, and said: "I assure you, between Watson and me there is a perfect accord. Either both of us will pronounce you mad, or neither of us will."