Lestrade and I sat in silence for a moment. Then we spontaneously started to clap, as if we had just seen the dramatic end of a play. A flush came to Holmes's pale cheeks, and he bowed to us like a playwright who receives the applause of his audience. It was at such moments that for an instant he ceased to be a reasoning machine, and betrayed his human love for admiration and applause. The same singularly proud and reserved character which turned away from popular fame was capable of being deeply moved by wonder and praise from a friend.

'Yes, gentlemen', he said. 'This is the most famous pearl in the world. It has been my good fortune, by a connected chain of reasoning, to follow it. It was lost from the Prince of Colonna's bedroom at the Dacre Hotel, and finished inside this, the last of the six busts of Napoleon which were manufactured by Gelder & Co., of Stepney. You will remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused by the disappearance of this valuable jewel. The London police were unable to recover it. I was also asked about the case, but I could not provide any help.'

'The maid of the Princess was an Italian, and she was suspected of stealing the pearl. It was proved that she had a brother in London but we failed to find any other connection between them. The maid's name was Lucretia Venucci, and I am sure that this Pietro who was murdered two nights ago was her brother.'