Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

She lifted up the hem of her skirt, and when Mr. Melas showed a strange and excited expression, she pulled out an iron T-square and shook it twice.

"A celebrity once said a word, Mr. Melas," Elena said casually.

The T-square wobbled and wobbled above Melas' head, and so did Melas' heart.

He swallowed his saliva, "What words?"

"Take care of yourself."

The T-square hanging above Melas's head shone with a unique icy metal color, whizzed towards it with the sound of wind, and finally stopped a little before the tip of his nose.

"Whoever we can talk about later, can... move away a little?" He said tremblingly.

"No way." Elena held a ruler in one hand and showed a sinister smile, "This little thing is the one I'm closest to. If I have a suitor, he must have a good relationship with the little guy." .”

She looked at Melas trembling with interest, and felt that he looked much better now than his greasy and ridiculous face before.

"So now, you know what my father is going to say when he sees my father, sir?" Elena said with a smile.

Melas nodded, shaking his legs.

"Good-bye, then, sir?"

Melas nodded subconsciously again.

Elena straightened her skirt, and casually returned to the room with the ruler in hand.

She remembered that a relative had sent her a letter from London and that she would be able to live there.

She picked up the letter on the table, looked at the name on the back first, and confirmed that it was from Mrs. Hudson, the widowed aunt in her memory.Eileen uncovered the somewhat stiff sealing seal, and unfolded the envelope.

"Dear Elena:

Zhan Xin'an.I haven't seen you for a long time, my dear niece, how are you doing?I hope it will be a nice and sunny day when you open this letter, as it is raining heavily in London as I write and we are still looking forward to spring.I recently got another recipe for roasting a turkey from Chef Francit (very good, I have to say, a court cook), the recipe is attached below, hope it will be as to your liking as the fruitcake...  "

A letter came in which gave a general account of recent events and asked her if she was coming to London.

Elena knew the address of her aunt's house by heart, and planned to fold the letter and put it back in the letter box.

Caught off guard, the count opened the door and barged in.

"Did I warn you, Elena?" said the count rather annoyed, "You never listen to my advice, even if it's all for your own good! I've spoiled you into lawlessness, haven't I?"

"But Mr. Melas is really not a suitable marriage partner," Elena said, "Dad, I think you know this better than me."

"What do you know? The only useful thing about him is that he is a South American officer!" said the count.

Then he seemed to regret the words he blurted out, "I shouldn't have told you this... Within three days, if you can't figure it out, don't come out!"

Even though she said so, Elena didn't take it seriously at all.

She was about to run away, what else was she thinking?

Early the next morning, Elena sneaked downstairs, riding her own bicycle with her suitcase strapped to the back seat, and embarked on a journey to London.

After arriving at the train station, she first put her luggage on the seat on the inner side, making sure that the folded bicycle could stay under the seat safely instead of dangling around, and then took her wallet to the ticket office to buy a ticket.

Although she knew that it was very dangerous to leave the package in place, Elena obviously couldn't carry things to the ticket office.

She can only hope that the guards on the train will work hard to keep the thief out of sight.

After successfully buying the ticket, Elena returned to her seat nervously, praying that her bag would not be stolen as she walked.

Unexpectedly, there was already an unfamiliar guard on the side where she put her luggage.

It was a young gentleman who looked a little thin. His upright sitting posture and serious and deep eyes all revealed good self-cultivation.

He sat sideways, looking in the direction of the door, as if he was waiting for someone.

Seeing Elena coming back, the young gentleman in a deer cap nodded to her, and got up to leave.

Elena just now came back to her senses.

This gentleman was probably worried that her things would be stolen, so he stayed here and waited for the owner to come back before leaving to ensure the safety of her luggage.

She said thank you in a low voice, which caused the young gentleman to look back at her in surprise, nodded to her, and closed the carriage door for her.

Eileen watched silently as the carriage door was closed, but suddenly thought of something.

At that time, what she got was the last few digits of the ticket, so, I am afraid that there are no vacant carriages at this time.

She got up quickly and slammed the door open.

Some not-so-strong doors creaked, and people in the next compartment came out to confirm what had happened.

This naturally also attracted the attention of Holmes, who was looking for an empty carriage.

He looked back at the rash young lady, with some doubts in his eyes.

"Well, sir..." Elena said with some embarrassment, "I don't think there should be any vacant compartments in the car now, if you don't mind?"

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

The two sat back in the carriage again.

"Sherlock Holmes," he introduced himself, "get off in London."

"Elena Molson," Eileen laughed, "what a coincidence, I also went to visit my aunt in London."

Immediately afterwards, the two fell into silence.

Seeing Holmes calmly took out a newspaper, Elena heaved a sigh of relief.

She adjusted the position of her luggage a little, and took out her ink and pen from the messenger bag.

Then I observed the structure of the train intently, and started to draw.

When she was working, she didn't listen to any sound, and occasionally stopped writing to meditate on the structure of the train in the section.

After finally finishing drawing this picture, Elena let go of her wrist, intending to get up and walk around, but met a pair of thoughtful eyes.

"I thought you were more like a draftsman in an architectural firm than a train engineer?" The newly acquainted Mr. Holmes seemed unafraid, "Since the calluses on your hands are exactly what a draftsman should have You are diligent, and your lines are very straight, which is obviously the result of your hard work."

"Oh, thank you, sir," Elena replied somewhat surprised, "I used to work in an architectural firm. I drew trains because there seemed to be no buildings on the train to pass the time."

"Then does the structure of the train contribute to the structure of the building you conceived?" asked Holmes. "I would have thought that the draftsman would have preferred to focus on the ornamentation of the seats rather than on the structure of the train."

"Maybe," Elena replied, "don't you think it would be interesting to design a cafe that looks like a train carriage?"

She made a gesture, "Maybe it is not necessary to use a large piece of decoration. For those of us who are engaged in the construction industry, most of the design inspiration comes from life, whether it is me or ordinary male draftsmen, it is almost the same .”

Changing to a more comfortable posture, Elena asked curiously, "Excuse me, sir, you don't look like someone interested in architecture."

"Yes, but it has to be said that the logical framework of architecture is of great help in the construction of certain systems," Holmes said.

He immediately made a somewhat presumptuous request, "If it's okay, can I observe your hands?"

After getting the permission, he almost quickly took Elena's hand and observed it carefully.

The way of "taking" is like Eileen's hands are not attached to her body, but instead formed into separate pieces.

"There are calluses on the upper knuckle of the middle finger...It is obvious that I hold a pen all the time, it must be a pencil for drawing. The falling charcoal black is a bit obvious, and the callus caused by the pencil is softer...There is also a callus on the right wrist...I hold a ruler all the year round, and I am engaged in the drawing industry ..." He murmured, "There should be nothing left out!"

Holmes pondered for a while, seemed to have thought of something, and nodded.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, "this has been of great help to me."

"It would be my honor if I could help you," Elena replied, "but it's hard for me to understand your thoughts... Are you a sociology researcher studying the calluses on your hands?"

"No," denied Holmes, "only for a little personal interest."

Elena shrugged, she didn't pay attention to the episode on the train, and quickly put it behind her.

With her own luggage, Elena rode her bicycle to ask for directions, and looked around for the address she had memorized.

Thanks to luck, she found a public carriage that would stop near Baker Street, which really saved Elena a lot of effort.The carriage was sprayed with bright paint to attract customers, Elena took a closer look, the frieze of the carriage was also engraved with stories from the Bible.

The coachman was driving three strong horses. Before getting into the carriage, Elena touched the material that built the basic frame.

There is some icy feeling of steel on it, but Elena roughly calculates that wood should be the mainstream (because the pure iron frame will not be too light).

The stagecoach seems to be the prototype of the modern bus. In fact, Elena clearly remembers that there are still many double-decker buses stopping in various streets in modern London.

After she paid, she put the box and the folded bicycle on the guard at the back of the first floor, and climbed up the stairs to the second floor, looking at the surrounding environment with some novelty.

There is absolutely no such carriage in the remote countryside. In fact, the carriage used by the family is relatively simple.

The carriage at home is simple and simple. Compared with the gorgeous frame made of wood, it is more like a modern tricycle.

Elena looked left and right in a strange way, she really found it very interesting.

Although the seat experience is worse than that of a private carriage, this height is really enjoyable.

She has even started to think about whether she can come here to sit here from time to time, and by the way, do some outdoor sketches of London's buildings.

In the evening, the ring on the door of 221B Baker Street was knocked lightly, and the afterglow of the setting sun shone on the visitors, shedding a brilliant light.

It was a young lady with curly red-brown hair.She put her bike by the door and lifted the suitcase, clasping it with leather-gloved hands.

The lady's dress is not particularly ostentatious, a simple gray trench coat with a stand-collar inner skirt decorated with accordion pleats, and a beige ribbon-lined top hat, no different from the past visitors.

But that's obviously not the same, at least in terms of appearance, she can be called shining.

The clean and elegant door was flung open inward. Mrs. Hudson looked around and hurriedly pulled her in.

"Elena, dear," Mrs. Hudson asked, "what are you doing here?"

"Don't you expect to see me, Auntie?" Elena said, "Don't close the door yet, I have to bring in the bicycle too."

She moved the box in her hand inside, and then moved the folding bicycle in.

Mrs. Hudson led her to the utility room.

"The anticipation is real, but you never told me you were coming these two days!" Mrs. Hudson muttered, "I'll go and clean up your room now... How about living on the third floor?"I guess the second floor is going to be rented out. A few days ago a young gentleman came to ask me something. He seemed very satisfied and said that he would ask a friend to find a co-tenant. "

Having said that, Mrs. Hudson became nervous again.

"I mean, Elena dear, you don't mind this?" Mrs. Hudson said, "Don't worry about conflicts, the living room is separated by a door, and the sound insulation is not bad on my side. "

"Of course not," Elena said. "Actually I have to thank you for taking me in, Auntie. I had a little argument with my father, and I have nowhere to go."

Her words made Mrs. Hudson hug her niece distressedly.

Mrs. Hudson had always known her niece was close to her father, and it must have been something wrong with the mean earl that had caused her to run away to London.

"Just treat this as a home, Elena," Mrs. Hudson said rather forcefully, "Your father, he values ​​interests more than feelings... Don't be afraid, if he comes here, we will kick him out !"

When Elena heard this, she subconsciously touched the T-square that was still hidden under her skirt.