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on 2015-07-15 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
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on 2015-07-15 08:02 pm (UTC)"He's right, you know," Linda said, the hint of a smile playing across her face.
"About what?" Edward climbed over the stile, then turned and offered his hand to assist Linda.
"You. Over-thinking things. Although," Linda paused, evidently considering what she planned to say. "It is good to see you trusting someone else to take charge."
"I trust his skills." Edward was aware Christophe was outpacing them, but also mindful that Linda had gone over on her ankle earlier, and wasn't doing as good a job as she thought at concealing her discomfort. She'd need to ice it as soon as she got out of those sturdy walking boots. "And there's no need to smirk at me like that, either. Say what you mean, why don't you?"
"You like him. He's good for you."
"Christophe and I go way back," Edward said. "But I can hardly expect him to settle down, just because I've got some stability in my life these days."
"Have you asked him?"
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on 2015-07-15 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2015-07-15 08:11 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2015-07-15 08:13 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2015-07-15 09:00 pm (UTC)no subject
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on 2015-07-15 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2015-07-15 10:14 pm (UTC)*
Harriet was enjoying herself. It had scarcely escaped her attention during previous interviews that Inspector Umplety was considerably more deferential to, and interested in the opinions of, Lord Peter Wimsey, wealthy criminologist, than Miss Harriet Vane, novelist of dubious repute.
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on 2015-07-15 11:25 pm (UTC)***
John shut the front door quickly. “That was a very good decoy job Mrs Hudson just did.”
“Yes. That feather-on-a-string thing was an astute purchase on her part,” Sherlock replied. “Gray might have been an asset if we were looking to engage people seated outside in conversation, but tonight it’s listening we need to do and inside the pub is where we need to do it.”
“Pity they won’t have any food this late. I’m starving again,” John said. “It was so busy at the surgery, I forgot about lunch until it was nearly time to go home.”
They eased past the crowd of smokers on the pavement. Sherlock swept his glance over each one as he held the door open for John. “I’ll order olives,” Sherlock said.
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on 2015-07-15 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2015-07-15 11:27 pm (UTC)