"To find a boy," Holmes said, his voice unusually soft. "It seems my education is finally beginning."
"I do not believe in you," Holmes said, though his eyes were wide.
But then came the fourth night. The temperature in the sitting room plummeted. The fire in the hearth turned a sickly, chemical green. Holmes finally turned.
"She’s been there three nights, Holmes," Watson replied, standing by the heavy velvet curtains. "She looks like she’s trying to tell you something."
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