Shylock finally succeeded in escaping the prison of the hospital.
Then, he immediately encountered a new problem.
This meant that Anne was no longer by his side all the time, no longer paying attention to what he ate for three meals,
Whether he slept well, whether he was in a good mood … Of course, she couldn't help him blow dry his hair every day.
This discovery made Mr. Holmes very unhappy.
When Anne came to 221B again,
Shylock ate the delicious breakfast that Anne brought over,
While caring about her sleep problem.
Mr. Holmes's meticulous and proud idea was like this,
If she still didn't sleep well — he could see that she didn't sleep very well — then he could take the opportunity to express,
To thank her for her previous care,
He didn't mind playing a few songs with the violin every night to help her sleep better.
Shylock was sure that she wouldn't refuse. She liked him to play the violin,
And it was the kind that she liked very much. Then he could say it. Of course, this method would only work if she moved back to Baker Street.
Yes,
It was perfect.
Shylock took a sip of the fragrant coffee with satisfaction.
But after Anne heard it,
She smiled softly,
But said, "No need,
I sleep much better now. And your injury hasn't fully healed yet. You need to rest well,
You can't play the violin recently. "
The bread that Sherlock had just picked up was placed back on the plate.
What did he just hear? No need!
Shylock stared at her for two seconds,
Then he came up with the answer himself.
"You went to see a psychiatrist," he said with certainty,
He didn't know if he should be happy about this discovery. He glanced at Watson, who was spreading jam on the bread, "and it was Dr. Fitz."
Watson shrugged. "I didn't tell her."
"Yes," Anne nodded with a warm smile, "When I sent your clothes to the dry cleaner, I found Dr. Fitz's business card in your coat pocket. I think it was prepared for me. "
After a pause, she added, "Dr. Fitz is a very kind and responsible doctor. I like her very much."
"Oh, what a fair assessment." Shylock picked up the newspaper on the table and flipped it open. "I'm glad to hear that. Thank John. I hope this' kind and responsible 'female doctor didn't ask you to write a blog. "
Dr. Watson laughed to himself. What a colorful breakfast.
Dr. Fitz did ask Anne to write about her experience and feelings on her blog, which would help to distract her from her anxiety. Anne and Watson were not surprised that Shylock knew about this.
Anne glanced across the table at Shylock's barely touched bread and bacon.
You don't like it? Perhaps she should change to another restaurant tomorrow. The specialty breakfast shop in Wigmore Street seemed pretty good. It was just that they had to wait in line for a long time. But it didn't matter. They just had to get up earlier tomorrow.
Anne was still thinking when she saw Mr. Holmes suddenly put down the newspaper in his hand, calmly pick up the bread and silently eat all the food on the plate.
Anne smiled with relief and lowered her head to drink the milk in the cup. That's great. I don't dislike it.
Shylock glanced at the blonde and fluffy little head. It was so boring that he could see through everything effortlessly.
But, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Watson looked at his roommate speechlessly. Can you rein in the corners of your lips that are about to curve to the back of your ears?
After breakfast, Anne looked at Shylock — well, he picked up the newspaper again.
Annie looked helplessly at the man who was sitting in the chair and had seamlessly switched her identity to that of a three-year-old Xia.
After saying goodbye to Watson and Mrs. Hudson, she returned to the restaurant for work.
When the brisk footsteps disappeared on the stairs, Watson looked up and caught a pair of eyes hidden behind the newspaper, obviously paying attention to the movement downstairs.
Aware of Watson's gaze, Shylock expressionlessly looked away and calmly turned the newspaper in his hand.
Watson looked at his awkward roommate and partner with some amusement, "You know, if you directly ask her to move back, she might agree."
"Who? Oh, you mean Anne. " Shylock's gaze was still on the newspaper, as if there was something interesting on it, "Why should I ask her to move back? She's fine now. "
"Really?" Dr. Watson smiled mockingly, "Although I don't have your meticulous reasoning ability, Shylock, I happen to have enough experience in love. So in my opinion, from the moment you asked Anne if she slept well and expressed your willingness to play the violin for her, it all points to the same goal. "
Shylock directly opened the newspaper in his hand and raised it, hiding his face behind it.
"Then I won't disturb you from playing your specialty." His deep magnetic voice came from behind the newspaper.
Watson also smiled and opened a newspaper, "You should listen to the advice of your seniors and tell her what you think, Shylock. Tell her that you want her to move back to Baker Street. Trust me, she'll agree. Everyone can see that the girl is willing to do anything for you. "
Shylock hid his expression behind the newspaper and didn't say anything.
.
The winter morning was cold and cool. The thin sunlight shone down from the sky, and it seemed to be filtered by layers of air, without any warmth.
Anne took the scarf out of the bag and carefully wrapped it around her neck.
It was Shylock's blue scarf.
Although he didn't ask for it back, Anne felt a little embarrassed to openly wear it in front of Shylock, so when she arrived at 221B, she took off the scarf "guiltily." She only dared to put it back on after coming out.
Perhaps it was just a psychological effect, but Anne immediately felt much warmer. She even felt that the scarf was filled with his scent.
Thinking of this, her face immediately burned. She quickly put her hands on her cheeks to cool them.
Before Anne could suppress the heat on her face, a black car suddenly stopped on the road beside her.
The backseat window rolled down, and Anne saw a woman in a business suit sitting inside. She was holding a phone in her hand and glanced in Anne's direction. She smiled politely and distantly and said, "Miss Anne De Boer, I'm afraid you need to come with me."
A tall man in a suit had already gotten out of the driver's seat and reached out to open the car door in front of Anne.
This was a classic scene. Anne thought she should know who she was meeting.
Anne glanced at the woman in the car and asked softly, "Can I not go?"
The woman looked at her phone intently. After two seconds, she turned to Anne, who had raised an objection.
"No." The woman refused very directly. She smiled and expressed her apology, then immediately looked back at her phone.
Okay. Anne sighed. It seemed that she was going to be late for work today, and this month's full attendance award was going to be ruined.
The car drove for more than 20 minutes and finally drove into an empty factory.
Looking at Mcauliffe standing not far away, wearing a three-piece suit and holding a long black umbrella, Anne didn't know how to feel.
If she remembered correctly, the last time they met wasn't very pleasant. This made Anne feel a little uneasy.
Mcauliffe pointed at a chair in front of him with the tip of the umbrella and said, "Please sit down, Miss Deboer." His smile was gentle, and his tone was calm, as if he had completely forgotten the small conflict outside the hospital's operating room.
Anne didn't sit down. She wanted to say that if he wanted to talk to her, he could go directly to the restaurant where she worked. After all, she knew his identity very well, and there was no need to be mysterious like this.
However, Anne didn't say that. It was a little impolite.
However, the person in front of her had obviously seen through her thoughts. Mcauliffe said, "It's not easy to avoid Shylock's attention. I hope there won't be any uninvited guests to disturb our conversation."
Anne nodded. She kind of knew what he wanted to talk about.
"I think you've made a decision, haven't you, Miss Deboer?" Mcauliffe asked.
"What decision?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Miss Deboer." Mcauliffe maintained a faint smile on his face. "You've been wavering since you saw Shylock, but obviously, you've finally made a decision."
Anne looked at him with clear eyes.
"Yes, if that's what you're asking. I want to stay with him. "Her voice was still soft, but there was no doubt in it.
"Very good." Mcauliffe's smile deepened. "Very good, Miss Deboer."
He said "good" twice in a row, but Anne wasn't sure if the person in front of her really thought "good".
Mcauliffe called her "Miss Deboer" in every sentence. It sounded very polite, but it seemed to draw a line with obvious indifference and alienation.
"Then I'd like to know, how long do you want to stay with him, Miss Deboer?" Mcauliffe asked.
Anne was stunned. How long? Of course …
Mcauliffe looked at her sharply.
"Sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean, Mr. Holmes." Anne stopped guessing and said straightforwardly.
Mcauliffe smiled. "It's very simple. Let's make a hypothesis, Miss Deboer. If one day, you can go home, what will you choose? "
Anne's heart sank.
Did people with high IQs like to say "very simple"? So far, Moriarty had said it to her, Shylock had said it to her, and now, the "Government of Great Britain" had said it casually.
But in fact, what each of them said wasn't simple.
Mcauliffe's smile became profound. "I think your hesitation explains everything."
Anne looked at the elegant and indifferent man opposite her and felt that it was a little difficult to breathe. Only then did she really understand what Mcauliffe meant by "decision."
"Do you still remember the blessing you gave to Shylock, Miss Deboer? You said that you hoped that he wouldn't let himself be lonely. "
…
"I have to admit that this is a kind and touching blessing."
…
"But do you know what real loneliness is, Miss Deboer?"
…
"Losing after having it."
…
"I think we all agree that with Shylock's superb memory, it's not easy for him to forget someone."
…
Calm analysis after calm analysis kept hitting Anne's eardrums. It was like a heavy hammer hitting her heart.
"So," Mcauliffe finally said, "tell me, Miss Deboer, did you really make the right decision?"
Anne was silent for a long time. A tense and sour feeling filled her chest. She had never seen it more clearly than now that she was the selfish one in her relationship with Shylock.
"Mr. Holmes, I'm not as smart as you. So I want to know, what do you want me to do when you tell me these things today? Do you think I'm dangerous to Shylock? Do you want me to leave him? " Anne looked at him with her clear green eyes. Her voice was still small, but a little bitter. "Should I leave him? Are you sure he'll be better and happier than he is now? Or is it enough as long as he's not sad? "
She wasn't smart or great. Before meeting Shylock, she had never even thought about what it would be like if she fell in love. However, no matter what, she was afraid that she would only meet someone she liked and was willing to treat him well and let him treat her well.
Although she had lived two lives and experienced strange things, in the end, she was just a simple person, so the things she could think of were simple.
To love someone was to do everything you could to be good to them, wasn't it?
She thought that this should be a simple matter to begin with.
But it turned out that it wasn't like that at all?
Perhaps the more complicated a person was, the more complicated the problems they would encounter. Just like her chaotic thoughts before, it was as if she was drowning in a whirlpool and couldn't climb out.
Mcauliffe hoped that she would make the right decision. However, what kind of decision was absolutely correct?
Anne asked softly, "Have you made a decision, Mr. Holmes? When you stand here and want to talk to me, have you already made the right decision in your heart? "
The smile on Mcauliffe's face had disappeared. He said in a low voice, "My decision is determined by your answer, Miss Deboer."
For a moment, Anne felt that the whirlpool that had been suppressed deep in her heart seemed to be stirred up by the wind and waves, and then mercilessly swept her in.
But she couldn't. She had so many people in this world that she couldn't bear to leave.
Anne raised her head and looked at the person in front of her with a determined gaze.
Mcauliffe raised his eyebrows and looked behind her.
Anne didn't notice.
"I …"
She had just said one word when she was interrupted.
A strong hand suddenly reached out from behind and clasped her slender wrist. Anne's heart trembled violently. She was pulled back a step and bumped into a strong body.
"You don't have to answer any questions."
It was a cold and familiar voice.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
