It was a cold and gloomy afternoon.
“Watson, will you be so good as to fetch my case”, said Holmes.
“Fetch it yourself, Holmes. I am busy”, said I cold but civil.
“Ah Watson! I see you have been visiting Prof. Moriarty’s website. Tut , tut. This is hardly becoming of you”, returned Holmes with what he hoped was a kindly tone.
“But confound it, Holmes! You could not be more wrong. I have scarcely used the internet these last few days if only you were not too self absorbed to notice. I am tired of your smug sense of superiority. After all, you haven’t solved a case in ages and such little deductive prowess as you may have possessed in some distant past is long spent.
“I am finished with you, Holmes, quite as much as I am with these chronicles. They have ceased to be worth bothering about.
The effect this ejaculation had upon Holmes was profound.
Shaken he muttered – “Have I lost you now to Manhattan Jewry and the vulgarities of the New World, Watson?”
Then suddenly he was kneeling at my feet: “Oh no Watson! For the love of God, Watson! I shan’t be able to endure not being written about. What good is a fictional character that is not written about ! Oh for pity’s sake! I shall do anything you wish me to do. From this moment on, my good Watson, your wish is my dearest command. Allow me to but serve you all my life!”
“In that case, Holmes”, I replied coolly “you might perhaps clean my pipe for it is in dire need of cleaning.”
He did a very good job of it too. I was particularly impressed with how he subjected the pipe to an examination through his magnifying lens with a view to ensuring that the minutest trace of dirt had been removed.