*The Nexus, to a man like Holmes, is an almost irresistable opportunity. A few streets away from the famous sign, he pauses to take stock. Impossible, all of it, but as he well knows, impossible does not mean untrue. Victorian London may well have been full of holes in reality, but he had found one purely by chance, groping in a pea-souper fog so
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Your pardon, madam...
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"Hmm?" She turns a bit, glancing at him over her shoulder. "Yes Mister Holmes?"
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You have the advantage of me. *his eyes flick over her clinically, noting her hands, her pregnancy, her attire, what she carries...his gaze is as restless as his mind* Although my name is well-known, I admit. *One long thin hand plucks at the flower* To what do I owe the honour?
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