Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

After Elena burst into tears, her emotions became a little bit normal.

She grabbed the handkerchief Holmes handed over, and wiped her face lightly, wiping away the tears from her face.

There is also a little smell of tobacco on it, which is lightly mixed in.

Elena didn't like this smell before, but she didn't mean to refuse this kindness, especially after she got used to the neighbors' smoking behavior, it became nothing worth mentioning.

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I won't wash the handkerchief separately for you." Elena folded the handkerchief and put it in her pocket with a hoarse voice. Send it to your room."

She never did her own laundry, nor did Holmes and Watson.

Several people's clothes were entrusted to a laundry lady who lived in another place, and she would come to pick them up at a fixed time every time.

Since they are all entrusted to the same family, there is no need to say anything else.

"Ah, of course," said Holmes, turning around, and smiling tolerantly at her.

He casually stuffed the keys in his pocket into his pocket, and straightened his hat, "Get out of the car, we're here."

Then he jumped down easily, adjusted his clothes a little bit, and stretched out his hand to Elena.

"Same as before?" Elena tilted her head and looked at him.

Hearing her words, Holmes also tilted his head, showing a bit of humor.

"Of course," he said with a smile.

"Ah, what?" Elena asked incredulously while holding the tea, "Mr. Holmes is moving out?"

She looked at Watson quite puzzled, "Really? Dr. Watson, will you come with me?"

The black tea in the cup is steaming, slowly spiraling and rising, forming spiral lines, and then dispersing into the air.

With a little cocoa taste, there is a sweet and comfortable aroma, hot.

"I don't know anything," Watson shook his head. "Actually, this matter—"

I heard about the move from Inspector Lestrade.

But before he finished speaking, Holmes interrupted him.

"Actually, no," Holmes shook his head. "The reward for the commission I solved was indeed a house...it's too remote. I have no plans to live there for the time being."

He looked at Elena with a smile, "Don't worry, I can't bear to part with such a nice house and landlord—"

And such neighbors.

Of course, he didn't have time to say this sentence.

With a bang, Mrs. Hudson put the snack in her hand heavily on the small table, causing the table to shake.

"Pretend you're complimenting me, Mr. Holmes," said Mrs. Hudson, rather curtly. "Next time the ashes will be in the ashtray instead of on the rug, and I'll be thankful."

"A house? It looks like a very rich client," Elena stared at the heat in front of her eyes, and exhaled to blow it away.

She didn't care about the phrase 'don't worry', and instead jokingly mentioned something else, "Can you introduce me? I'm short of rich people who come to me to design buildings so that I can make money back."

"No," replied Holmes curtly, "I do not think that gentleman a good client."

His light-colored pupils reflected the tea in the cup, shaking slightly.

"Why?" Elena asked curiously, "He's very picky, isn't he?"

"Ah, no." Holmes raised his head and gave her a slightly surprised look. "Miss Elena, you have actually started to use reasoning in your life—although it is not conscious yet, it is not bad."

Elena reached for the teaspoon and stirred the tea in the cup.

"So, you are referring to a client who is not very good. What is the reason?" She looked at Holmes, "I am just guessing."

"Because I put him in the police station," Holmes shrugged, "and his family—his father, who was nearly murdered by his son—rewarded him with the villa that was supposed to be a gift to his son." , as a gift to me. Lestrade was present, but I did not expect him to tell Dr. Watson this."

"That's quite a pity, a tragedy of human relations," Elena shook her head, "However, this kind of crap has nothing to do with that person."

"You don't seem to be particularly sad?" Watson added a cup of tea for her. "Miss Elena, you look very calm."

He looked at the young lady with some doubts, "That person? Who is it?"

"I mean Moriarty," Elena replied, raising her hand and taking a sip of tea.

She looked at Watson a little strangely, "Why do you think it's strange that I'm not sad?"

"Because almost most of the young ladies, at such times, would sigh sadly and lament the involuntary young life," Little Brutt replied, "or cry involuntarily."

He said something like a compliment, "But that's what makes you so talented, Miss Molson."

Elena put the teacup on the table heavily.

"Don't make me kick you out, little Brut," she said, a little annoyed. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," said little Brutt, "did I say something wrong, Miss Molson?"

He quietly put the bag on the ground, "How about I go back first?"

"Because you are too one-sided," Elena said coldly.

She stood up casually, and picked up the coat that was originally hung on the back of the chair, "What you see is not the whole world, and what you see is not the whole of humanity. Isolate me from women, think too much No matter how good I am, I belong to a woman, just like you belong to a man no matter what."

Seeing that she seemed to be leaving, little Brut panicked.

At this time, he couldn't care about the matter of asking Elena to help him, and tried hard to think about how to calm Elena down.

"I'm sorry," Brut Jr. apologized without a pause.

He apologized so happily, but it made Elena lose the excuse to attack.

Elena walked back and forth angrily, and Little Brutt followed her continuously, pestering her and apologizing non-stop.

Eileen kept pestering him until she couldn't stand it anymore, so she waved him to leave quickly.

"I forgive you," she said impatiently.

Little Brutt left contentedly.

"What kind of life am I living this day?" Elena slumped on the chair and couldn't help complaining, "What kind of subordinates are these!"

A weirdo Eric, an idiot little Brutt, and a spoiled Lydia.

This team can't move!

"I reckon you enjoy it," said Watson, looking up from the newspaper, with a smile.

Elena sighed.

Things haven't been going well recently, all the developments are too bad, and my mood has also turned bad.

"Even if it's the truth, don't say it at this time, Doctor Watson," Elena muttered a little unhappy, "It's rare that I want to complain a few times."

Watson waved his hand, "Sorry."

He winked at Elena, and took out a paper bag from the basket under the seat, "How about an apple pie? I brought it from near the place where I applied."

"No, she doesn't like apple pie," said Holmes.

Elena didn't touch a single bite of the apple pie she ordered at the riverside restaurant.

"So you know again?" Watson himself took a bite of the apple pie in his hand, "Is that so, Miss Elena?"

"Yes, I don't like apple pie very much," Elena replied, a little surprised. "How does Mr. Holmes know?"

Holmes smiled mysteriously and deceptively.

"Let's talk about something else." He turned around quickly and looked at Elena. "About the things you were anxious about before, do you feel okay?"

Seeing Elena's doubtful face, Holmes added, "About Moriarty."

"Not very good." Seeing that the topic turned back to Moriarty, Elena picked up the biscuit in hand and took a bite viciously.

She said indignantly, "It was he who caused me to fail to build the building this time. Don't think I don't know. He must be behind this matter. I must put all the accounts on him. "

"Accounts?" Watson put the newspaper aside, "What accounts?"

"A lot, about condolences to the victims, and some aid, sex accounts," Elena chewed the biscuit, said vaguely, "because I found out later that these things are related to my entanglement with Moriarty , I used some family funds."

"No wonder," said Holmes thoughtfully.

He pushed away the cold teacup, and picked up the instruments on the table.

"So," Elena sighed again, "I think I'm a prodigal. If I were a man, I might have been placed by now—"

"That dandy prodigal son?" Watson answered subconsciously.

Seeing Elena's gaze, Watson quickly raised the pen in his hand, "Forgive me for the inertia of those who write this kind of story, Miss Elena."

Elena shrugged nonchalantly.

She stood up and stretched her waist, "Then gentlemen, I will go back first, and I have to do some work..."

"No, wait," said Holmes, stopping her.

Elena looked curiously, only to see Holmes looking at the test tube in his hand without blinking.

Watson heard the voice and came over curiously.

Elena glanced at it, and planned to leave without interest.

She has more interesting sketches to draw upstairs.

As Holmes shook the two test tubes, he murmured, "Don't go, Miss Elena. Come closer, yes, and you, Watson. You will have the honor to see the greatest masterpiece of this century—"

Elena and Watson listened to his words and moved closer.

Holmes poured the liquid in one test tube into another.

Then, the pile of unknown liquid made a loud noise and billowing smoke.

With a bang, it exploded.

Elena closed her eyes subconsciously.

When she opened her eyes, she found that the faces of Holmes and Watson were covered with a layer of black unknown objects.

The scene was so ridiculous that Elena couldn't help laughing.

Holmes glanced helplessly at Watson, and the two of them also laughed.

Until the earl pushed the door open, the first thing he smelled was a strong burnt smell.

He looked around, but couldn't find his daughter.

All I saw were three people painted with black briquettes giggling at each other.

The earl looked around, "Did I go wrong? Isn't this 221b Baker Street?"

"This is Baker Street, Lord Molson," replied Watson.

By the way, I found a piece of paper and wiped my face casually.

"What about my daughter?" the count said in disbelief.

What about his daughter who is supposed to be working hard?Mrs. Hudson said she was here.

"Then I'll go upstairs to have a look. Elena may still be working," the count nodded towards the three of them, "I'm sorry to bother you."

"No, I'm here," Elena silently raised her hand.

"No!" the count exclaimed, "Although I'm easy to deceive, don't you try to deceive me!"

He took a step back, "My daughter, it's impossible to be so dark!"

The author has something to say: Elena: ?Plastic father-daughter relationship, report it.

There should be an update today, everyone can watch it tomorrow, it will be a little late

感谢在2020-09-1821:10:45~2020-09-1921:44:27期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels of the irrigation nutrient solution: 10 bottles of Xuege and Tianlanlan; 3 bottles of Jiuqing; 2 bottles of Shenbi; 1 bottle of Qianluo; thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!