Baker Street Check-In Record [Sherlock Holmes]

"Sylvester, you woke up so early again!" Browns greeted her happily, "Aren't you with your friends?"

Cecily smiled: "Every time I see you, you carry a pannier, but why is it always empty?"

Instead of answering Browns' topic, she turned to questions.

Browns wanted to go into the woods to pick some wild vegetables, so Cecily simply followed. When he came out of planing the vegetables, Cecily picked them up together, and threw them into his back basket.

"Why don't you farm the land yourself?" Cecily squatted on the ground to pick up vegetables to find a topic.

"Maybe it's because I don't know how to grow it," Browns replied casually, "It's mainly because fertilizers are hard to get, and I really don't want to destroy the natural scenery by the lake. Plant a piece of vegetables Come out...how out of tune."

"Oh, you're just lazy." Cecily got up and followed Browns a little inside.

"Okay, you're right. I'm actually quite lazy. The main reason is that I don't like to eat green vegetables. When I want to eat, I just dig it out. Well, there are fruits on the tree. I'll climb up and pick some. .”

Cecily nodded.

Browns rolled up his sleeves and rolled up his trouser legs, and he climbed up, and Cecily was amazed below—it was like a monkey.

After she picked up seven or eight, Browns came down, took a fruit and wiped it on his body: "Do you want to eat it?"

Cecily hesitated for a moment: "No need."

Browns shrugged, picked up the basket that was carried on Cecily's body, and carried it to himself: "It's right not to eat, but it's actually quite sour."

As he spoke, he took a bite of the fruit.

"By the way, how do you judge whether these things... are poisonous?" Cecily asked after hesitating for a while, "I just think it's quite powerful, haha."

"Oh, this," Browns ate the fruit in two or three bites, and wiped it on his body casually, "You can just ask the villagers. I brought some plant illustrations over, but I didn't have the interest to read it. The villagers know this very well. They know what they can eat and what they can’t eat, and what they can only eat occasionally and not for a long time. As for why they can’t eat, some know and some don’t... Anyway, it’s okay to be cautious. In the first month I came, Just eat some grass."

Cecily burst out laughing.

"Is it funny?" Browns exaggerated, "Because there are so many plants, I only know grass."

Cecily agrees, but she only knows grass.

After spending almost two hours in the woods, the two parted ways, and Cecily strolled slowly back to Bob's small house.

Bob is here now.Cecily counted the time, and it was almost eleven o'clock.

This time she saw Mrs. Hunter again, she seemed to be... holding what?

Cecily didn't approach subconsciously, but stood far away. Thanks to her good eyesight, she saw Mrs. Hunter stuff something into Bob's hand. After Bob put his hand in his arms, Mrs. Hunter lifted the milk bucket. Leaving - Cecily was startled when she saw it, she said she was too weak to lift such a heavy bucket of milk like this?

Wait... Cecily suddenly realized that this family didn't use that much milk in a day. It was just adding a little when drinking tea, and then the milk for Mr. Hunter's three meals, which added up to two liters at most?Mrs. Hunter must have five liters in this bucket, right?As for bringing it up every day?

Only then did she leisurely walk to Bob's house: "Mr. Bob, are you there!"

This log cabin looks much stronger than Mr. Browns's, and it's easy to understand when you think about it. Browns was a novice at the beginning, and he built a relatively poor foundation. Afterwards, he could only sew and mend it for another three years.

There was another sound of something being knocked over in the wooden house, and then the door was opened: "Mr. Sylvester, please come in quickly, it is very windy outside."

Cecily went in naturally, and gave the note to Bob: "Actually, they are all small attention points. I think you probably don't have time to go to the town to prescribe medicine if you stay in the village all day."

So, talking nonsense, Cecily talked in detail about how to warm up in normal times, how to pay attention to winter, how to pay attention to diet - in fact, many things were said yesterday, but in order to show her, um, considerate or something, She said a few more words.

Old Bob couldn't stop nodding when he heard this, and when Cecily's mouth was dry after talking for a long time, he hurriedly prepared to pour a glass of water for Cecily to drink.

Cecily was silent for half a second: "Mr. Bob, can I have a taste of your milk?"

In fact, she wanted to explain, what is it like to experience fresh milk or to say that she has never seen a cow being milked?

Of course, Old Bob said yes: "Just now Mrs. Hunter came to pick up the milk, and I kept some for myself... You told me yesterday that I want some milk."

Cecily immediately became nervous when she heard Mrs. Hunter. Of course, who is she? She pretended not to know anything and glanced out the window——

!!!

Someone is outside the window!

Cecily stood up abruptly.

"Mr. Sylvester?" Old Bob was a little puzzled.

"I want to say that I can come by myself," Cecily said very steadily. "Just now you mentioned Mrs. Hunter. Mr. Hunter asked me to check her body before, but she kept refusing."

"That's natural. She's in perfect health, but she's a little worried..." Bob fetched some water, washed the cup, poured out the water, and then filled Cecily with milk, "She She's a very nice person... If it wasn't for her, I would have to go to the house to deliver the milk by myself, and Mr. Hunter always thinks I'm a bit unseemly, so he doesn't like to let me go, and he always has to say a few words when I meet him occasionally. "

Cecily expressed regret: "I thought Mr. Hunter was indeed a gentleman."

Old Bob didn't seem to mind, and handed the milk to Cecily: "Old Mr. Hunter is indeed, and the only ones who can be called gentlemen in my mind are you and your friends—although I don't I have met him, but I believe that someone who can become your friend must be good."

"My friend, Mr. Holmes, is a real gentleman," said Cecily without changing her expression. "In my opinion, he is much better than me, whether it is dealing with people or being flexible—"

"I'd like to see you then," laughed old Bob. "Drink now."

The freshly squeezed fresh milk had a fishy smell, and Cecily couldn't tell what kind of smell it was. It wasn't very tasty, at least she didn't like to drink it, but she suppressed the disgust, and after drinking it in one gulp, she ate Xiao Di burped: "This taste is different from the one I drank at the table... it's still not the same."

Bob was stunned: "Really? The ones on the dining table should be fresh, at most one night later, they seem to be frozen in the underground wine cellar."

"That's it." Cecily was thoughtful, "This manor consumes a lot of milk."

Like an unconscious exclamation.

When it came to his own topic, Bob said a little more: "Actually, it's okay. Madam takes it almost once every two days, and the rest will be sold. The housekeeper will come and get it."

Cecily raised her eyebrows: Oh, all the evil capitalism should be dumped.

Of course, this cannot be said.

Old Bob went out to wash glasses, and Cecily looked back to the window where Holmes' face was pressed.

Cecily wanted to open the window, but saw Holmes' note.

The door opened again, and Holmes disappeared with a whoosh. Cecily pretended to look at the sky at a 45-degree angle and was melancholy.

"To be honest, I feel very conflicted." Cecily sat down again with a troubled expression on her face, "My friend told me that he didn't want me to talk about it, but... I don't think you will. Bar?"

She looked up at Bob with some hope, fully interpreting the helplessness of a gentleman.

"Sir, if it would make your life easier to tell me, old Bob would be your loyal listener."

"This..." Cecily was about to speak, but then hesitated whether to say it, and seemed a little hesitant.

"Actually, I don't want to talk about this..." Cecily bent down dejectedly.

"If you are really so distressed, I am willing to swear to keep this secret!" Bob replied sonorously.

Cecily: ...I feel a little embarrassed.

"My friend, I was entrusted to investigate the curse in this village," she hesitated, speaking incoherently, "We think it's probably poisoning."

Bob's eyes widened in shock.

"We know that Mrs. Hunter was only married in the past two years..." Cecily stopped short and did not continue.

"It can't be Mrs. Hunter at all. People in the village have been blind for a long time—" Bob hastily defended Mrs. Hunter.

"We've already found it!" Cecily lowered her voice solemnly, "It's Klimt!"

Bob froze: "Impossible!"

Cecily: "How is that impossible!"

After a while, Cecily calmed down: "I'm sorry I shouldn't be in such a hurry, and I shouldn't say it outside. I never believe that Madam would do such a thing. I would rather believe that she died of illness, but I..."

Bob's eyes wandered for a long time, and finally he spoke.

"Mr. Klimt is a good man in my old village... Mrs. I mean Mrs. Hunt, she belongs to Mrs. Klimt." His tone was a bit heavy.

"What?" Cecily looked in disbelief.

Bob smiled bitterly: "Don't you believe it..."

He slowly finished the whole story.

Mr. Hunter Jr.'s mother died when Mr. Hunter Jr. was born, and Mr. Hunter Jr. never remarried until the summer two years ago.

At that time, Mr. Hunter Jr. had just started to go to boarding school. Mr. Hunter had no one at home, so he usually liked to go out to play, and because Green Village did not welcome him, he would go to the town if he had enough time. , he ran to the small bar in the next village to drink.

That day, Mrs. Cream bought her husband a drink, and she waited a little longer at the bar.Unexpectedly, Mr. Hunter took a fancy to Mrs. Klimt at a glance, took her away forcibly and, and...

Cecily showed a shocked and "I understand" expression.

It was also a coincidence that the Klimt couple got married in a small local church. After that church caught fire, the records of their marriage disappeared, and Mrs. Klimt had to marry Mr. Hunter.

After hearing this, Cecily was in a state of "...".

In fact, there is another reason why she doesn't like women's clothing, that is, women's clothing in this era is too uncomfortable!With such a big pannier, do you know how inconvenient it is to go to the toilet?So the women are wearing open crotch pants...

Suddenly I understood why it seems that I can have sex anywhere...

Cecily was speechless for a while, and it took a long time to find her own voice: "But, according to you, Mrs. Hunter...or you prefer to call her Mrs. Klimt, doesn't she have more motives for committing the crime?"

Bob was stunned: "It's impossible, isn't it? Madam is definitely not such a person!"

"I don't know, I don't think so, but the whole family..." Cecily sighed.

"Doctor, it's a curse! His eyes are bleeding!"

"I'm a doctor! I don't believe in curses. If there were, it wouldn't be now," Cecily said in a low voice, before softening her tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. I just, I don't know, I think maybe Something bad is going to happen to me so I'm anxious...sorry."

"No, no, you don't need to apologize to me. If you really have doubts, you should, but I trust Madam very much. I don't know about other things. I have said too much. It's all things I shouldn't say." Bob was a little tired, and his eyes were a little cloudy.

Both of them are tired.

"It's time for lunch, doctor, and I wish you a pleasant meal."

Bob opened the door and asked Cecily to go out.

Before leaving, Cecily took off her hat again: "I'm very sorry."

After Bob said goodbye to her, he watched Cecily leave before closing the door.

When Cecily walked to the window at the back of the hut, she took a look. The empty green grass was vaguely covered with footprints.

He knew that Holmes would never be idle.

She hadn't gone a few steps, but when she looked up, she saw Mr. Holmes standing there looking at her, with the tip of his stick raised, waiting for her.Cecily hastened to his side.

At this time, a gust of wind was blowing, and Cecily pressed her hat, and saw Holmes' arms slightly bent, and when she looked up again, she saw him staring at her with a smile on her face.

Although she disliked the women's clothing of this era, at this moment, she suddenly wanted to wear that kind of skirt and walk carefully beside him with the hem of the skirt lifted.She pretended to look away naturally, and gently put her hand on it.In this day and age, good gentlemen always walk with their hands clasped together.

Well, it wasn't her who was angry in the gay group this time, Cecily thought to herself, she adjusted her facial muscles... She was actually a little stiff at first, and she only found the feeling of speaking when she opened her mouth.

"I just drank milk."

45.

"I have just had milk," said Holmes heard his friend's voice dryly, "and it does not feel quite right."

Only at this moment did he realize once again that his actions might have indeed caused trouble to his friends, and he seemed a little close, but this was clearly a behavior within the normal range.After realizing his friend's restraint, Holmes pretended not to notice, but looked at her slightly sideways: "Is there something wrong with the milk?"

"Yes," Cecily thought for a while, "the one I drank in the morning is a bit astringent."

"Morning?" Holmes was taken aback. "Is there any milk in the morning?"

Cecily suddenly realized that it might be that Mr. Hunter gave her the milk that Mr. Hunter didn't drink last night, and she was a little embarrassed: "Well, the housekeeper poured milk for me. I was surprised at that time. Didn't they all give it in the morning? The tea was replaced with milk today. Now that I think about it, it is very likely that Mr. Hunter should drink it yesterday, but Mr. Hunter didn’t drink it. As for the taste...it doesn’t look like it’s gone bad, but it’s a bit astringent. I can't describe it."

It was rare for Holmes to be a little worried. He glanced at Cecily and reminded her with her usual expression: "Be careful when you eat something that doesn't taste right—"

"I know," Cecily said bitterly, "I just think... hey, it's a chronic drug anyway, it should be fine once or twice, if it's really aimed at Mr. Hunter and Mr. Hunter... , then it shouldn't hurt you and me..."

Seeing that Holmes seemed to object, Cecily quickly said, "Hey, I'm very curious, how did you hide it? guarded."

Holmes thought for a while, then looked at the brown-gray coat on his body: "Probably it's a protective color?"

Protective coloration? ?Cecily was dumbfounded.

His expression suddenly became very complicated.

Well, at least the hat isn't green.

The sky suddenly brightened for a moment, followed by thunder.

Rumble.

Cecily subconsciously exerted force on her arm, and looked up to see the blue-gray sky.

It is almost a melancholy color, the world is like a cage, covering people up.

"It's going to rain," said Holmes, also looking up at the sky. "Go faster."

Cecily had never hoped that she was indeed bound here, at least with him.

When they returned to the room, the rain hadn't fallen outside, and Mr. Hunter Jr. hadn't arrived at the table yet. Cecily felt a little strange—it was already twelve o'clock, and Mr. Hunter hadn't come down yet.

Only then did Mr. Steward notice them, and emerged from behind the stairs.

"Doctor Sylvester, Mr. Holmes, the young master is waiting for you in the study." The butler went back after finishing speaking.

The two looked at each other, not knowing what was going on, only feeling puzzled, and went upstairs.

Before they knocked, Mr. Hunt Jr. opened the door, and without saying a word, asked them to sit down neatly.

As soon as they sat down, Mr. Hunt Jr. handed over a telegram.

"They want me to keep you, Doctor Sylvester," Little Hunter snorted heavily, "suspected of murder."

"What?" Holmes was taken aback, but he realized it before Cecily said, "The gang from Scotland Yard..."

He concealed the words behind and did not say any more, and the left and right words were not good.

"Is the milk good this morning?" Little Mr. Hunter ignored Holmes, but looked at Cecily.

"...Do you know that there is something wrong with that milk?" She was taken aback, "You still keep...?"

"Actually, I just suspect," he tapped his hand on the table, "you see, no one in this house will listen to me."

The silence and depression in the room can kill a depressed patient.Cecily, who was obviously suspected but might be taken away, was the calmest one.She let out a long sigh of relief, then fell back in the chair, and even stroked the fake fur carelessly.

"I see." Cecily didn't mind. "If I can solve this mystery, I don't mind going to Scotland Yard for two days."

"I've already contacted your cousin, Dr. Sylvester, and your life there won't be too bad—of course," he turned around suddenly, and glanced out the window, the sky was overcast , the rain has already fallen, "It's raining, the people from Scotland Yard must arrive tomorrow."

"If you can solve it tonight, everyone will be happy."

Cecily suddenly realized that she didn't like such an isolated place. She didn't know how many things were hidden in this place. Although there might be clear groundwater hidden in the muddy ground, there might also be the corpse of an unknown person underneath.But here, in such a village and such a manor, wanting to commit a crime seems to be an easy thing to do.

The advancement of science and technology has reduced the privacy space of human beings. How many people yearn to go back to the past and at least have a place where they will not be disturbed.At this moment, Cecily finally realized that not being disturbed was also a harbinger of danger.

Mr. Hunter Jr. didn't look too strong, and his face was very ordinary, without any features. His cheekbones were neither too high nor too low, and his lips were neither too thick nor too thin.Unlike Mr. Hunter—Mr. Hunter always likes to show off triumphantly, but pretends to be humble. His cheekbones are high, and there are many wrinkles around his eyes. Maybe his expression is too rich—but in fact, the father and son are Incomparably similar, their movements are always a bit rough, and when they are expressionless, there are always some shadows.

Probably, it was this kind of environment that made Mr. Hunter slowly restrain himself, and also forced such a child who hadn't finished junior high school to make plans.

Mr. Holmes wanted to say something, but he didn't say it after all. Mr. Hunter Jr. got up and smiled a little: "It's time to eat."

He opened the door first, then closed it thoughtfully after leaving.

"Maybe we won't get any news today," Holmes said calmly, as if the hesitation to speak just now didn't exist at all. "Tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow at the latest, as long as old Bob delivers the letter, I'm sure I'll stop it."

Cecily smiled, and pressed Holmes' shoulder when she got up: "To be honest, I don't seem to be very angry."

When she walked to the door, she didn't seem to have noticed it before. The door was quite heavy, and the solid wood door creaked when it was pushed open.

"Let's eat first."

Holmes stared at her fixedly, did not speak for a long time, stood up swiftly, lifted the back of the chair lightly, the chair was lifted up and stuffed in, turned sideways, and walked around the table. in front of her.

"Let's go."

The atmosphere of this Chinese meal was a little weird, but Mrs. Hunter didn't look like she was about to cry, but she still didn't want to talk.Holmes also only occasionally praised the taste of the food, and Mr. Hunt Jr. answered with affected old-fashioned.

If you think about it carefully, if you don't consider Mr. Hunter's voice, the tone and content of his speech are very calm, almost like an adult.

In the afternoon, the rain stopped again, Holmes went somewhere, and Cecily had nothing to do, but felt relieved.Anyway, if she had greeted her brother, she wouldn't be too sad even if she got into a situation, and she had no motive or evidence, and the person working for her outside was her loyal friend Holmes. Bureau has a faint sense of curiosity.

It's really not necessary.

Cecily flipped through the pharmacopoeia slowly, and when she was halfway through, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in." Cecily put down the book and stood up.

The man was wearing a Scotland Yard uniform, a tall, bulging-foreheaded man.She thought it looked familiar, but for a moment she couldn't remember who he was.

"Hello, I'm Inspector Grant of Scotland Yard, and I'm in charge of taking you away," he pronounced strangely, short and sharp, like a stuck whistle, "Dr. Sylvester."

Holmes returned to Hunter Manor before dinner.

When he just stepped into the door, he noticed the unusual atmosphere. The housekeeper and maids had already run out, sat on the sofa and even made tea by themselves.

The step of Holmes seemed to press a pause button.

Several servants froze for a moment, but then began to drink tea freely, but did not speak again.

Holmes had some bad premonition: "Sorry, I just want to ask, where is my friend?"

"Dr. Sylvester was taken away by people from Scotland Yard," a maid with a round face whispered softly, "we all thought you went to visit him."

In front of outsiders, they can still maintain the illusion of humility, but when the guests leave, they try to occupy the manor.

I don't know if Mr. Hunter back then knew the current situation, would he regret being the poisonous snake that bit the farmer.

46.

Inspector Grant was very cold and didn't say a word in the carriage, but he didn't shackle Cecily, as if Cecily was not suspected of murder and was just taken to cooperate with the investigation.

The car was very bumpy, but Cecily wanted to seize the time to understand her situation.

"Inspector Grant, may I be accused of murder?" She felt that it was difficult for her to maintain her voice. Kidneys were abused.

Grant glanced at her, and Cecily nodded as he saw the angle of reflection on his forehead change.

Then he said, "If you like handcuffs, I don't mind putting them on."

He reached out and touched the waistband of his trousers, and it was indeed handcuffed: "Brother Ling said hello, we will not treat you badly until there is no proof."

Cecily: ...

Is it really okay to say so bluntly after taking a bribe?

Even though she was always calm, she was blocked for a second at this moment.

"So, you have no evidence to prove that I am guilty?" Cecily was silent for a while, and then asked tentatively.

"But, again, you have no way to prove your innocence." After he said but, there was an extremely long pause, and he glanced blankly as if he didn't see her before he said.

Cecily was silent, not knowing what to say.

She can only sell Amway.

"You know, Amway (anyway)," she coughed, "do you know Mrs Klimt?"

Grant glanced at her without answering.

No matter what Cecily said afterwards, Inspector Grant would not answer any more, and Cecily could only give up.

Mom, this guy is so difficult to deal with.Cecily also had a temper, so she propped her cane on the ground, without caring about her image, she rested her head on the cane and shook it.can't sleep.Then he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Difficult.uncomfortable.

At this moment, Holmes is not feeling well either.His friend, accused of murder, is now in Scotland Yard in another land, and there is nothing he can do now but wait patiently for another letter from the next village.

The next day, he saw Mrs. Hunt running to the cattleman's pasture again, but did nothing. Holmes felt that he couldn't wait like this, so he simply found an excuse and told Mr. Hunt that he was looking for a bar. After drinking, he drove his horse and ran to the next village.

This village does not have a name, but it is much more developed than Green Village and a little farther from Potts Town. Compared with the natural landscape of Green Village, its fields and livestock are in place.

It didn't take much for Holmes to find a bar under the guidance of the simple villagers. In broad daylight, there were few people drinking, so Holmes sat at the bar with a glass of gin and chatted with the bartender.

There were not many people, so everyone's voice was very clear. He heard them gossip about Green Village, saying that Mr. Hunter Jr. might not be able to keep his inheritance after Mr. Hunter died.

He heard that they didn't seem to know much about the past many years ago. They only knew that Mr. Hunter robbed Mr. Klimt's wife and the inexplicable fire. Whether Mrs. Mu can come back.

Holmes held his glass thoughtfully—perhaps he had to look around Klimt's house, hoping he could meet that Mr. Klimt.

The topic came to an abrupt end.

A man came in. Holmes leaned on the bar with one arm, half-closed his eyes and looked tired, and looked at him quietly.

This Mr. Klimt can also be regarded as a good-looking person. If most of the people here are farmers and workers who have returned home, he should be a cultural person who has read a little, but his eyebrows are high and his nose is straight. Very strong.

"Mr. Klimt, what would you like to drink today?" the bartender greeted in a relaxed tone.

"Tequila, take a bottle, I'll take it home to drink." Mr. Klimt sat down on the high stool beside Holmes, stepped on the ground with one foot slightly bent and hooked on the crossbeam in the middle of the wooden stool, and then He noticed the rather indecent sleepy gentleman next to him, "There are a lot of guests in the bar recently?"

The bartender picked out a bottle of tequila from the corner and handed it to him: "This season, Potts Town and the lakes to the west of our village are worth visiting, Mr. Klimt, you really have no sense of time." .”

Klimt was dazed, and almost dropped his hand when he picked up the wine bottle.

"Yeah," he whispered, "I'm all alone."

"It'll be fine," the bartender poured him a glass of wine, "I'll send you off, for a better tomorrow."

Mr. Klimt gulped it down: "Thank you, friend—for a better tomorrow."

He turned the glass upside down to show the bartender that he was completely dry, put the glass on the table, took out the money, and left without delay.

Holmes propped his chin pretending to be sleepy, and said to the bartender, "Have another drink."

For a better tomorrow.

Leslie was in Mycroft's office at the moment.

"Mycroft, that Mr. Napoleon you mentioned seems to be eyeing me," Leslie was rarely irritable, and he threw the letter on the table, "Ha, he really thinks he is the one Monsieur Napoleon who is defiant but a head shorter than everyone else? Let me back off?"

"You are too aggressive in buying land." Mycroft straightened up lazily, picked up the letter from the table, touched the material of the envelope completely, and looked at the postmark stamp and wax seal, "Hey , you merchants always like to take risks, I remember you know better than me that people with concerns can't afford to take risks."

"I have a title," Leslie pulled off his tie angrily, "Don't confuse me with those businessmen..."

Halfway through the talk, I wanted to laugh again—he was already a businessman, but he still had the decency bestowed by the British royal family. He might not think much of that decency, but relied on the benefits brought by it.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, and Leslie didn't continue talking, but just threw his bow tie on the table.

"Don't worry, your sister won't be treated badly," Mycroft sighed, "Although Grant's brain is not very bright, he is obedient enough."

"Mycroft, are you hiding something from me?" Leslie felt something wrong, and impatiently knocked on the table.

Mycroft said nothing.

Mycroft spoke at last, before Leslie's patience ran out.

"Stupidity always grows with power," he said quietly, "I don't need to sit in a high position, and those people in high positions are like puppets in my hands."

He stood up slowly.

He's not too fat, just a little - a little fat, but his movements are calm and calm, and even clumsy in the eyes of impatient people, which seems to aggravate people's impression of his exaggerated weight.

The curtains were closed, and he opened a crack with his fingers, and the light came in. Today in London, the sky is still covered with dark clouds, and the ground is still muddy and dirty.

It's the same every day, and the people below are the same. They have changed a batch, but the difference between them and the ones that haven't changed is not big.

"I can guarantee your sister's safety," Mycroft withdrew his finger, and the light was shut out for an instant, "I promise."

Grant has not only handcuffs on his waist, but also guns.

Leslie lost his temper and leaned back on the sofa deflated.

"I said," Mycroft's tone became relaxed again, as if nothing serious had been said, "you take your sister too seriously. She's not a simple little girl."

"I'd rather she stay at home—"

"Hush—" Mycroft made a silent gesture.

Well, Leslie shut up, Mycroft's words were indeed completely understandable, Leslie didn't want her sister to stay at home like a canary in the first place.But he never thought that Cecily would want to be a doctor, let alone that Cecily would have to go to Scotland Yard for a day trip or even a lot of day trips because of her relationship with his friend's brother?

Leslie was a little frustrated.

"I think maybe I have to discuss the dowry with my younger brother." Mycroft turned to look at him happily. "As for the dowry, can you give your land in the West End..."

"You're dreaming," Leslie twitched the corner of his mouth, and said angrily, "Don't expect my sister to marry, you, Mycroft, your younger brother, Mr. Cracking those little cases is going nowhere, and you're ready to die alone, and it looks like your brother is just like you."

Mycroft shook his head amusedly: "You don't have to worry about it. By the time my younger sister graduates, my younger brother will already have made some achievements."

Leslie never doubted Mr. Holmes' talent, but...

The two sat for a while without talking about anything.

After a pot of tea was finished, Leslie grabbed the tie on the table, a little awkward but finally found a way to tie it: "You drink less flower and fruit tea in the future, and see which gentleman out there likes to drink it."

Mycroft smiled and said nothing.

Leslie is really awkward. He obviously loves to drink, but he doesn't want to tell others. Every time he comes to Mycroft's place, he can drink it all the time, and at the end he has to dislike it. Obviously he is the last drinker. People who are afraid of bitterness - and Mycroft doesn't like bitterness, but Mycroft is always honest, he can drink flower and fruit tea calmly, even if it is popular among ladies outside and not for men.

Mycroft watched his friend leave, his face gradually sank.

The author has something to say: Tweet my friend Brand's Essence of Chicken!

Seijuro Midoriji[Comprehensive]

I asked Ji Jing to introduce her essay, and she thought for a long time to say something, of course to forgive her?I really don't understand the young people of today?

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