Long listens patiently, of course. He has few other modes. He daubs bread into oil and vinegar and watches Sherlock Holmes with his eyes half-hooded.

I suppose I panicked. I suppose I also wanted to see what would happen.

"Oh, dear," Long murmurs, brows arching a fraction, lips pursed in what can only be termed avuncular disappointment. "That seems to have been a curiosity expensively satisfied."

There is no further censure beyond that, at least not from Mayland Long. He tears another fragment of bread with his raptors' fingers. Long's eyes flick to the bread, and then back to Sherlock.

"So the demon was released by this spell, and then it.... performed some enchantment upon your person?"