“Who knew what other similarly lethal snares awaited within. Holmes was of the same view, and so we picked our way carefully across the broken glass and exited the conservatory as we had entered. I aimed a last glance back at poor Benoît’s body. It was spiked all over with a mass of glittering glass fragments, festooned with them like some ghastly festive ornament. The young Frenchman had been abnormally courageous. His death, I vowed, would not be in vain. Outside, on the lawn, I examined Holme...s’s leg. He insisted that it was nothing, a mere scratch, but I wanted to ascertain for myself that no major damage had been done. Thank the Lord, it hadn’t. I prised out the sliver of glass without much effort, leaving just a shallow flesh wound. “I should like to swab that out with peroxide and iodine when I have the opportunity,” I said, “to prevent infection.” “Yes, yes,” said Holmes dismissively. “And Holmes – I apologise. For setting off the trap. In my defence, I had no idea it was there.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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