"That's because your attention has been directed at the considerable charms of her prepossessing person rather than her manner and deportment," replied Holmes quietly. He paused to look his companion up and down with an amused twinkle in his deep-set eyes. "Indeed, if I am not mistaken, the flush mounting to your cheeks and the unseemly bulge in your Plus Fours, leads me to conclude that you are in an equally advanced state of sexual arousal, though, in your case, I feel certain it will subside as soon as you have taken tea."
"T-taken tea?" spluttered Bingo. "What the devil do you mean by that?"
"Are you not in the habit of taking tea with our housekeeper—Ms Beaverburrow—in her sitting room?"
"I—er..."
"And does she not entertain the strongest affection for you?"
"I—er...well..."
"Come, come, Bingo. Why so coy? As soon as she sees the libidinous condition you are in, will she not have those trousers off you before you've had time to butter your crumpet?"
"Really, Holmes," Bingo blustered. "You are the most provoking of men. Can one keep nothing from you? It is most unnerving to have one's most intimate thoughts laid bare in this casual manner!"
"If it is any comfort to you," chuckled Holmes, "The woman who is about to ring our doorbell is no better at concealing her preoccupation than you."
"Why do you mean by that?"

"She has just plunged her right hand between her legs and is gripping it tightly with her thighs—but you will observe that she is attempting to conceal this un-Ladylike manoeuvre beneath the unfashionably large cape she is wearing. Notice also the flushed face, uncontrollable trembling and frequent, furtive glances in our direction. All these signs suggest that she is no stranger to touching herself in the most intimate of places in public without thought for the consequences."
"Good Heavens, Holmes!" Bingo ejaculated. "I do believe you're right. The brazen hussy is actually rubbing her hand between her legs. Look, how she throws her head back and gasps for air. What on earth would provoke a person to make such a disgusting exhibition of themselves in broad daylight in a busy thoroughfare?"
"Persistent sexual arousal," replied Holmes, moving toward his desk and reaching for his pipe.
Bingo pressed his flushed face so closely to the window that he had to continually wipe the condensation from it to see through the glass. "Why I do believe she fully intends to bring herself to the moment of crisis. Shocking! Absolutely shocking Holmes—Holmes?"

Sherlock Holmes had seated himself at his desk, his unlit pipe clamped between his teeth and was feverishly pouring through several thick folios, seemingly oblivious to the spectacle in the street below to which his assistant was excitedly attempting to draw his attention.
"I say, Holmes, that woman is masturbating in public!"
"So I observed earlier, Bingo," said Holmes distractedly.
"The filthy slut! Has she no shame?"
Holmes looked up from his books to apply a match to the bowl of his pipe and nursed it into life.
"On the contrary, she is a woman of high moral standards who is wracked with guilt and shame at the depths to which she has been driven to obtain some temporary relief from her distressing condition."
"Condition? What condition?" asked Bingo. "All I see is a shameless slut openly pleasuring herself to a—a massive—great Scott! I think she's just fainted Holmes!"

To be continued.....