"You'd buy me a new one. Or I would. I am still in possession of your winnings from the previous evening; would you like me to continue to hold onto them for you?"

He silently does as Watson requests and sets the instrument aside.

"I do so loathe these intervals of inaction," he groans, without waiting for a response, leaning forward to press his fingertips together.

"The mind rebels in such doldrums."