To Holmes, she is always the mare. In his eyes she eclipses the whole of her sex, and fills him with admiration and loathing. Whether she in fact stole the Starry Night was ultimately beside the point. What mattered to Holmes was that he had been matched at his own game, by a mare; that it had not been altogether unpleasant; and that she had caused him, however briefly, to turn his keen and unflinching gaze upon himself.
Romance Sad Crossover Adventure