Anne had been holding the Time Gem for three days.
Except for the first time when the gem suddenly emitted a burst of light, it was silent as usual, like an infinitely expensive but also ordinary emerald.
She didn't go to Baker Street these three days, so naturally she didn't see Shylock or the other members of 221B.
She couldn't sleep for three whole days. It was a very bad experience. Although Anne's insomnia had been with her for many years, it had never been like this. She couldn't close her eyes almost all night.
This made her very tired, and her usually gentle temperament was occasionally irritable.
Anne didn't know why.
But when she closed her eyes, Shylock's bright eyes with some kind of hope appeared in her mind.
Perhaps she was worried that she would disappoint him.
Even if the Time Gem responded the moment she touched it, Anne still didn't think she could use or control it.
She didn't know what to do. She had no clue.
This made her feel heavy and irritable.
In the rainy London, there was no rain in the few days since she arrived, but the sky was gloomy and the clouds were thick, as if they were brewing, and there was a thin layer of water vapor in the air.
After breakfast, Anne took a walk in the garden for a while. Her mood didn't improve much.
She finally stopped struggling, got into the carriage, and drove to Baker Street.
Anne couldn't deny that she really wanted to see Shylock.
When the carriage stopped in front of the iconic door of 221B, Anne heard a gunshot.
At first, she thought she was hallucinating because of lack of sleep, but then there was a second and third gunshot.
The pedestrians on the street stopped in surprise.
Anne jumped out of the carriage and knocked on the door, only to find that it wasn't locked.
She pushed the door open, and when she walked to the entrance, she heard the conversation between Shylock and Watson.
Anne quickly understood that the detective was shooting innocent walls out of boredom.
It wasn't surprising at all.
"God knows why you let your Browning travel through time with us." Dr. Watson's angry and helpless voice came from upstairs.
Anne smiled slightly.
Walking up the stairs, the door to the living room on the second floor was also open. Anne knocked twice on the door to remind the two men of her arrival.
Shylock and Dr. Watson looked over at the same time.
"Miss Deboer." Such a polite greeting could only come from Dr. Watson.
But for the first time, Anne didn't respond in time.
Because, without any warning, she was face-to-face with the "homeboy" Mr. Holmes, who was wearing blue pajamas, barefoot, and had a head of cute, messy curly hair.
Dr. Watson lowered his head and smiled, then said as he walked out, "Mrs. Hudson seems to have been out for a long time. I hope she didn't get lost in 19th-century London. Maybe I should go look for her …"
Very soon, Watson realized that his excuse was completely unnecessary because no one was listening to him.
The poor doctor tactfully shut his mouth and left. Before he disappeared, he did not forget to considerately help the person inside close the door.
The room was quiet.
"I think you must like London very much, so you've been partying all night for the past three days. Otherwise, there's really no way to explain those suspicious dark circles on your face." Shylock's sarcastic and cold tone broke the silence.
Annie, however, smiled gently.
Was it obvious? She even borrowed the maid's makeup powder to cover it up before she went out.
Shylock snorted. He ignored her.
Anne wasn't sure if he was angry because of her insomnia, but this thought made her heart soften.
"Shylock, I brought biscuits." She said somewhat pleadingly. "I baked them myself. Do you want to try?"
"Baking biscuits on a sleepless night. That's really creative."
"Then do you want to eat?" Anne didn't care about his repeated sarcasm. She walked into the kitchen to find a plate.
In this era, young ladies weren't approved of cooking. In the 19th-century British aristocracy, not only were gentlemen kept away from the kitchen, but ladies were also the same. It was just that sometimes she couldn't sleep at night and wanted to eat, but she didn't want to disturb the servants, so she would make some herself.
Shylock's kitchen was like a chemistry laboratory. Anne's eyes swept across a pile of glass test tubes and flasks, and finally found a plate on the top shelf of the closet. It was probably put here by the helpless Dr. Watson.
Anne put the biscuits she brought on the plate.
"Give me a cup of tea, thank you."
Anne looked up and saw that Shylock was already lying flat on the long sofa at the end of the living room. It was rare for him to be in a proper posture. His hands were folded in front of his chest, and the pair of bare feet on one end of the sofa were also white and thin.
The slender figure suddenly appeared in front of her. Anne was a little stunned. Until Shylock suddenly turned his head and looked at her expressionlessly.
Anne, who was caught red-handed, quickly lowered her head in fear. Her face was red, and her heart almost jumped out of her chest.
Fortunately, the teacup wasn't hard to find. Anne found a bone china teacup with golden patterns on the dining table that was used as a laboratory table.
When she picked it up, Anne realized that there was something inside.
In fact, she should have thought of it earlier. It was just that Shylock's body (?) Made her slightly absent-minded.
"What is this?"
Anne brought the cup closer to her eyes. It was half a cup of suspicious liquid, and there was a round object floating on top. This suspicious round object turned in the cup, and then floated up and down to meet her gaze.
Anne didn't want to lose her composure, nor did she want to make a fuss.
However, it was an eyeball. She could even clearly see the red blood vessels around it.
Anne thought that it was very reasonable that she had just let out a short scream.
Unfortunately, she couldn't continue to hold the cup firmly. The beautiful bone china teacup with golden patterns fell to the ground and shattered. The eyeball that belonged to an unknown deceased rolled on the ground twice, and then stopped at Anne's feet.
She held the edge of the dining table and wanted to move away, but her body was a little weak and she couldn't move.
Shylock, who heard the sound, turned his head and immediately understood what had happened.
He didn't get up and was still lying on the sofa calmly. He looked at her from afar, and his thin lips moved slightly. "Well done, Miss Anne De Boer. You just destroyed my important evidence."
Anne didn't reply. She hadn't recovered from the palpitations just now. Excessive insomnia, coupled with the shock just now, made her vision turn black.
"Pale face and short of breath. Congratulations, it seems that your asthma is coming to visit."
Anne opened her eyes and saw that Shylock had gotten up from the sofa at some point. He was standing beside her, looking down at her embarrassing situation.
"… Sorry." Anne said, panting lightly.
Shylock frowned slightly. "You don't have to apologize to me. I'm not the one suffering from asthma."
Anne shook her head. "I mean …" She glanced at her feet. "Your cup, and …" Forgive her for not being able to look at the human organ.
Shylock lowered his head and followed her gaze to see the eyeball that had rolled to her feet. He raised his eyebrows and didn't say anything.
"Can I trouble you to help me sit in the living room?" She really wanted to be far away from the organ that had been detached from the human body.
Shylock stared at her pale face for two seconds, and then his tall figure suddenly bent down —
Anne's feet were off the ground before she could react.
Shylock picked her up.
He was only wearing a thin gray T-shirt under his blue robe. Anne's face was pressed against his chest, and she could clearly feel his tight muscles and body temperature.
It was only a few steps from the kitchen to the living room. Shylock looked down at her in surprise.
Why did he feel that her breathing was more rapid than before? Her face wasn't as pale as before, and there was even a strange blush.
Anne was quickly placed on the sofa in the living room. As soon as she sat down, she immediately shrank back and stayed away from his scent.
Shylock glanced at her silently.
Anne couldn't notice it. What he had done just now was really making it difficult for her to breathe and make her dizzy.
However, she didn't know that it wasn't over yet.
Before Anne could react, the man opposite her suddenly reached out a hand. His slender fingers stopped at her collar and unbuttoned her clothes without saying a word.
Anne was really frightened this time.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was almost trembling.
Shylock looked at her calmly. "As an asthma patient, you don't even know the most basic first aid measures. Should I say that you're stupid, or extremely stupid? "
Anne said with a hoarse voice, "I'll do it myself." With trembling hands, she unbuttoned the top two buttons on her collar.
Shylock's gaze lingered on her beautiful pale collarbone for a moment. Then, his gaze slid down to her waist and abdomen. Anne was about to be burned by his gaze.
"I hope you're not wearing those stupid corsets."
Anne quickly shook her head.
The women of this era would ferociously stuff themselves into tight corsets for the sake of their graceful waists. But Anne had never tried it. First, her body was too weak and couldn't bear the torment. Second, she was already thin enough.
She didn't expect that Shylock even knew this. He was known as the computer's hard drive brain. Wouldn't he directly delete this useless information?
Anne slowly steadied her breathing. Shylock stayed by her side and stared at her with burning eyes.
In this situation, Anne was simply getting half the result with twice the effort. If she continued to be stared at by his gray-green eyes, she was afraid that she would really suffocate.
Finally.
"Can you, turn your face away?" Annie's breathing was a little unstable as she negotiated softly.
Ha! Shylock was too familiar with this sentence. But the other person who said this sentence had an arrogant and rude tone. It wasn't as gentle and soft as this.
The arrogant and conceited detective never thought that he would one day stand in Anderson's position and be despised to this extent.
Shylock stared at her with a dangerous gaze. He didn't say anything and didn't move.
Because of the lack of oxygen and breathing difficulties, Anne's eyes were moist as if there were tears in them. She looked even more fragile and soft. Her long eyelashes fluttered twice as if tears were about to fall.
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