Baker Street Charterers

When Nora entered a nearby clothing store, the boss was sending a customer away. Seeing her, he showed a warm smile, "Hello, what can I do for you?"

"I have a male friend." Nora gestured to her figure, "Probably... About the same height as me, and not too fat or thin... Do you have any tailor-made clothes that fit this size?"

The boss gave her a sympathetic look, probably thinking that this superficial male friend should actually be her fiancé, who is worthy of pity for her height and build, his face softened a little, "Yes, the season's white shirt and long sleeves trousers, and a thick woolen coat..."

"I just need shirts and trousers," Nora tactfully said, considering her balance.

The boss took out a set of clothes for her as promised, Nora looked at it, then paid the money very readily, wrapped the clothes and walked out of the shop.

When she got back to Baker Street, it was raining lightly outside, and Mrs. Hodson opened the door and said with a smile, "It's just in time, Nora, I made you baked potatoes and stew, come in, children, yours." My hair is all wet."

Two oil lamps were lit in the living room, and the lighting was very warm. Holmes sat on the sofa and quickly browsed today's newspapers, while Watson sat at the dining table and was eating dinner.Hearing the noise, Watson turned his head and saw Nora entering the door carrying a bag. He looked thoughtfully at Holmes, who was leaning lazily, and said, "Hey, Nora, come and taste Mrs. Hudson's delicious food." craft."

"A lie," broke in Holmes suddenly.

Watson's smile froze, and the landlady next to him glared at Sherlock Holmes.

To be honest, it is very inappropriate for two men to live with a young lady, but Watson and Holmes are sitting in the room with peaceful faces at the moment, and they don't feel anything wrong at all——Watson is a good old man, Naturally, he would not think of going elsewhere. He was full of pity and pure admiration for this young and intelligent girl, but Holmes?God forbid, maybe in his world, gender was always a thing that was useful for sex, and intelligence and character were never related to it.

As for herself, a warm shelter is more important to her, fame?This thing was gone when Yuan came all the way to London in shabby men's clothes to find relatives.She never expected to be able to rely on fame to marry a decent nineteenth-century Englishman.

So she put down the bag, and sat down very happily at the table to eat, while chatting with Watson about all the interesting happenings of the day.

"The fabric is rough, the style is old, and there is no bright spot." A critical voice came from the living room. As soon as Nora turned her head, she saw Holmes unconsciously holding the men's clothing she just bought with her fingers, and commented expressionlessly. "The only good thing about it is that it's cheap enough, and it's not outstanding at all."

"Oh God." Exclaimed Mrs. Hudson, who brought the tea, "Sherlock! How can you rummage through a lady's things?!"

"Sorry." Holmes tilted his head. "You mean Ma'am?"

"..."

Nora wiped her mouth, got up from the chair calmly, took the clothes, looked at them, and then folded them, "I don't think anyone who is serious about his career would wear a skirt to hinder his work. place, I think a men's suit is a more appropriate choice."

It was only then that Watson figured out Nora's intention to stop the car. He had the impression that Nora had always been very assertive, but wearing men's clothes was inevitably attracting attention in Britain where the atmosphere is not open. He reminded gently, "You employer of..."

"He will probably agree with my choice." Thinking of Cleveland's gloomy face, Nora was very sure, "Mr. Hawk probably wouldn't like the sight of blood on his plain clothes either."

"Blood?" Watson was surprised. It is said that it is not a clinic?Why did you mention blood species?

"Yes." At this point, Nora was taken aback for a moment, ignoring an important point—she hadn't told Cleveland where she was, so how should he notify her if a fresh corpse arrived at the clinic?I hope the employer will not be angry.

Watson and her emphases intersect infinitely.

"It seems that you often see wounds." Holmes sat back on the sofa and asked with great interest. "Are you interested in seeing more, more serious wounds?"

"Sherlock Holmes!" Watson whispered, "Nora is a woman..."

"Of course I'm interested!" Nora's eyes lit up, "You mean..."

Watson "..."

"Mr. Watson is a dedicated and loyal doctor and recorder," Holmes said as tactfully as possible, "but since my work is full of all kinds of intrigue and blood, I need a careful person with both knowledge and life experience." Subordinates of skill."

He used "subordinate" instead of companion, and it was clear that the great detective had once again lost his arrogance.

It took Nora a moment to grasp the deeper meaning of "carefulness" and "life skills." "You mean you need a bodyguard?"

"Well, it's always a pleasure to talk to a wise man," said Holmes.

"I remember you..." Nora paused. Holmes was recognized as a single-stick expert, a good boxer and fencing master. She didn't think her self-defense skills could catch his eyes.

But seeing Holmes looking pointedly at Watson who was confused, she instantly understood.

The life of Sherlock Holmes has never been short of magnificent experiences. He comes into contact with all kinds of people, ordinary people, conspirator, careerist, terrorist, even enemies or geniuses with great malice, which makes his Security is no longer a one-person affair.She understands his feelings very well. The work in her previous life was full of danger and foresight. Apart from being flexible in mind and skill, there is still a harsh condition that she cannot be the only child, otherwise if something happens, the family will be cut off.Even in today's Britain, Holmes' life may not be as dangerous as she used to be, but out of prudence, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to Watson.

This young man is broad-minded, warm and kind. Although his personality looks a bit shy, anyone who has come into contact with him will love him from the bottom of his heart, and Nora is no exception.

Of course she was happy to accept the job, and the only problem to be dealt with was to negotiate a good time with Mr. Hawke, since it wasn't every day that Holmes received a case he was satisfied with.

"I agree to your request." Nora changed the subject in a timely manner, "Now we can talk about the issue of remuneration."

Holmes stopped reaching for the violin, blinked his eyes and raised his voice, trying to frighten her off with a serious and gloomy look, "Did I take you to the scene of the murder, bringing you countless insights and the opportunity to seek the only truth? Isn't that considered a reward?"

"One yard is one yard." Nora was unmoved at all, even if the other party was the most famous detective in history, her nature of making money did not shake, "Even birds without brains will catch insects on crocodiles. Well, Mr. Holmes, I am a man whose parents have died, and I rely entirely on my own hands to support my family."

"..." For the first time, Holmes began to hate sharp-tongued words, which he considered to be a compliment, and began to get close to mediocre people like Watson who were not smart or at least did not fight back.

"How much do you want?" Holmes eyed her warily.

"How much do you think he is worth?" Nora asked without answering, and Watson beside him interrupted coldly, "Who?"

"Shut up." The two said in unison.

Watson "..."

Nora held out a finger.

Holmes fumbled in his pocket, then paused, narrowed his eyes, and gritted his teeth, "I hope you are worth the price, Miss Nora."

"Believe me, Mr. Holmes, there is no one more suitable than me. I have an eye-catching beauty, a rich heart, and reliable skills." Nora boasted without moving her face. When you dodge a bullet behind you, you will understand how correct the choice of today is."

"Beautiful? Beautiful?" snorted Holmes, raising his eyebrows imperceptibly. "I don't even know who we're talking about."

Watson finally understood what he said, and he couldn't wait to speak, showing his gentlemanly demeanor intimately, "Nora is indeed a beautiful girl." After a pause, he added a very troublesome sentence , "When wearing women's clothes."

Holmes laughed, and said mockingly in a meaningful and serious voice, "I can't wait to see tomorrow, Watson."

Nora glanced lightly at the bewildered Watson, said good night to Mrs. Hudson, and went upstairs.

Watson looked puzzled. He didn't know where he had offended Nora, so he could only ask in a low voice, "Nora, she..."

Holmes was playing the violin, and the strings he plucked were loud and cheerful, floating melodiously across the room. When he heard Watson's question, he drew the bow faster in his hand. A "Hungarian Dance No. [-]" " was played by him with a loose attitude, but it sounds lighter, like the wind in the sun.

Watson felt ashamed, thinking that Nora must be joking, so he touched his chin and walked back to his room with heavy steps.

The night is dark, and the night is approaching, only the soft nocturne faintly floats in through the crack of the door, and the bright moonlight shines through the narrow window, this music makes the stars blur and soften.

Lying in the dimly lit small room, Nora silently said "good night" to herself while listening to the violin music gradually dissipating.