Hopping out with my carpet-bag in hand, I opened it whilst Sherlock paid for the cab and sent it trotting off. Mycroft stood like a stump as I handed him a lantern and some matches. Having planned only for the company of one brother, not two, I kept the other lantern for myself; Sherlock was carrying his heaviest walking-stick, an excellent weapon. As he was managing Toby, I handed him Duquessa del Campo's handkerchief, then stuffed my Gypsy bonnet along with my gloves and my expensive wig into the carpet-bag, and covered my beacon of a yellow dress with a lightweight black cloak I had brought along for that purpose. Uniformly drab now, with my swamp-coloured hair in an untidy bun atop my head, I turned to my elder brother with a smile.

"Now, Mycroft, do I look more like your very own renegade sister?" As an afterthought, I peeled my little birthmark off my face and tossed it into the carpet-bag.

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