opened the windows without a word.
stepped into the room and with a shiver, shot an annoyed look over at
his roommate who was slouched with a book and promptly closed them
a moment, all was quiet, then--
erupted, a keen treble blast that reverberated in the room, the sound
like a French horn artist warming up. Watson blanched, and then hastily
darted to throw open the windows once more.
It was an accusation and question all in one.
looked up briefly from his tome. “Olives.”
a pound I should think. They were intended for my seduction which
was . . . avoided, and now I lack any reward for my noble actions."
sputtered with laughter, leaning with lazy grace against the windowsill
and shooting a tolerant look to the bulldog before gazing over at
Holmes. "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps Irene knew Gladstone
would get them all along, Holmes? That this is a Parthian shot of the
brow darkened. "Devious, and given the amount, potentially lethal of
dog sounded again, a basso blast this time, followed by an almost
apologetic snuffle. Watson’s smirk deepened. "For whom,
Gladstone or us?"
Holmes sighed, “is immune to his own flatulence; given how
recessed his nose, probably a trait for survival."
how gaseous he is, you mean."
bulk limits his ability to move away from his own emissions, therefore,
a limited capacity for scent is . . . necessary."
bulk is NOT my fault,” Watson protested. “I'm not
the one who consistently leaves the tea tray on the FLOOR."
tables are upholding more vital items, besides, on the floor, the tea
is safe from being knocked over, Watson. I find it logical to keep it
there,” Holmes murmured without looking up again.
"I find it in three
weeks, you mean."
well I'm not solely responsible for Mrs. Hudson's scones of
stone,” Holmes sniffed. "I'd have a pipe to counter the odor,
but I fear a single lucifer could send the building up."
a bad idea, yes,” Watson agreed, leaning a little out the
window for fresh air. “The next time your elusive paramour
turns up, would you at least suggest figs or something else innocuous?"
Are you insane,
Watson? As a medical man, you of all people should be fully aware of
the laxative effect of dried fruit!"
but he doesn't LIKE them. You, on the other hand, could use a good
clearing out,” came the taunt.
bowels are fine, not that they are of any concern to you. And Gladstone
isn't the only one to dislike figs. Besides, this condition of his
cannot go on for much longer. A turn in the park may clear matters up
good,” Watson countered sweetly. “Feel free, old
for ME, for the dog! Off you go--take Mary, it will be good training
for those oncoming scions of yours."
moved to collect the leash. “If I take the dog, Holmes, then
you won’t have anyone to blame for the other tuba solos in
kept the windows open.