I looked back to see Holmes mincing within my footsteps, his skirt drawn up to reveal the trousers below. Were it not for the threat hanging over us, I would have given out with a girlish giggle at th...
You translate it, please. I have worked hard to forget what Greek I once knew.
Ratiocination.
. . the first spring in five free from the rumour of guns across the Channel, a spring anxious to make up for the cold winter, life bursting out after four years of death. All of England raised her fa...
Using insult instead of argument is the sign of a small mind.
My God...it can think.
A Scotchwoman’s Shortbread Biscuits Cream together ½ pound (1 cup) warm butter with ¾ cup dark brown sugar. Work in 2 ¼ cups flour—slightly less if the mixture is too dry to hold together. Chill brie...
You cannot help being a female, and I should be something of a fool were I to discount your talents merely because of their housing.
Don’t stride so, Russell! Holmes whispered fiercely. Throw your boots out in front of you as you walk and let your elbows stick out a bit. It would help if you let your mouth hang open stupidly, and f...
The water stretched out as far as the eye could see in an expanse of gentle grey-blue swells broken only by the occasional white-capped wavelet and the line of the ship’s passage, unrolling die-straig...
Youth does not inspire confidence, in life or in stories,
THE END OF a case is always long, tedious, and anticlimactic,
Moments of pure relaxation were rare for me. There was always the nagging of books unread, work undone, time a-wasting.
My God, it can recognise another human being when it's hit over the head with one.
Were she not aware that he was more than a man who could make plants grow. And
A spray of burning tobacco flew into the air, followed by furious slaps and the stench of scorched wool. Once Holmes was sure he was not about to go up in flames, he turned to the driver in a fury.
The night air moved up towards the Downs, washing over sea and orchard. I breathed it in, and thought that henceforth, loneliness would smell to me like fermenting apples.
The response to a festering sore was not to extol its virtues, but to lance the thing and let the poison bleed out.
Why was the mind said to have an eye and not a hand, or a tongue? Perhaps touch, taste, odour, sound were linked to the heart rather than the intellect.
Margery, I blurted out in a passion of frustration. I don't know what to make of you!Nor I you, Mary. Frankly, I cannot begin to comprehend the motives of a person who dedicates a large portion of her...
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