The Opera Singer

"What are you discussing?"

Villard returned, forehead drenched in perspiration.

"The restaurants in London and what we should treat you to later," Holmes answered.

The redhead detective blushed. "Oh, there's no need for that. I'm not here on holiday. Don't worry about me; I'll settle for a simple meal."

Holmes couldn't help but smile at the fellow's reaction. "Villard, my friend, we were actually looking for the missing oil painting."

"What? You found the oil painting?!" Villard nearly leaped into the air. "That was fast! But how?"

"If you do as I say, stay calm, and pay attention to the details that you might have missed, you will also be able to piece the answer together."

"Oh, you have such a high opinion of me. It may be child's play to you, but to the unexceptional man like us, it's like reaching for the moon," Villard sincerely admitted.