A Study in Sable Read Online Free Page A

“As Sherlock has pointed out, Mary and I are ready targets for his enemies. If the cost of keeping our place of residence a secret is that I have to sneak out by the servants’ entrance to go to my practice and pretend to enter and leave a block of flats near it, so be it.”
    Personally, Nan thought that was a capital idea. It had occurred to her more than once that collecting enemies meant that those enemies would look for a weakness in your defenses—and being known to be fond of someone was a weakness.
    The door to C was not marked by a nameplate; John inserted a key and opened it, waving the girls and the birds in before him. The sitting room that greeted them was as bright and tidy as Sherlock’s was dim and messy. The room was painted rather than papered, in a cheerful yellow with the trimwork in white enamel; the drapes were a deep gold, a color that would stand up to the London soot. The carpets were unfashionable and sturdy. Pictures were good prints rather than bad originals, mostly of rural scenes. There was a homely scent of toast and cinnamon in the air. Nan felt at home immediately, for it was not unlike the Harton School when it had been in London;old furniture, slightly out of fashion, reupholstered in durable material. None of the fussy lace and furbelows most fashionable wives seemed to think was necessary. Everything was of good quality and meant to last, but not new; made for comfort and use, not looks. There were books; most of the walls were taken up with bookcases stuffed with books. There were two desks, and beside one of them was the sort of heavy bag generally carried by doctors. The focal point of the sitting room was the hearth, which featured the only really new thing in the room, a modern fireplace stove. Presiding over a nicely laden tea table by the hearth was a petite blond woman, her hair in a French Roll like Nan’s. She was not pretty, but she had truly wonderful eyes. And when she smiled at them all in greeting, her face was quite transformed by the expression. She rose in greeting as they entered.
    â€œAnd here are our new companions, Mary!” Watson exclaimed, and rubbed his hands together at the sight of the laden tea table. “I see you have provided us with a feast!” He directed the girls to a chocolate-colored settee on one side of the table and took his seat beside his wife on a mostly-matching settee on the other.
    â€œI expected that after their interview with Sherlock they’d be hungry as hounds,” said Mary Watson, gesturing that they should come help themselves as she poured out tea for all. She pointed to a spot where there were newspapers and four bowls waiting. “I spread newspapers on the carpet and put cups of water and saucers of chopped fruit on the floor there for your friends, if that will be all right?” she added, a little anxiously.
    â€œOi’ druther ’ave yer
eye,
me ducks!” said Neville, and uttered a bloodcurdling laugh.
    â€œNeville!”
Nan exclaimed in sudden anger at her feathered companion. But then she saw Mary was laughing uproariously, and sighed with relief.
    â€œGood heavens, he’s like a feathered Penny Dreadful!” Mary exclaimed, and to her unconcealed delight, Neville flapped over to the back of the settee behind Mary and misbehaved his little heart out, alternately demanding she “Give us a kiss!” with threats to her eyes,liver, kidneys, and lungs. When he had her laughing so hard she had to put her hand to her side and could scarcely catch her breath, he finally stopped his antics, flapping down to the floor and stalking over to the papers protecting the carpet, and joined Grey at the feast.
    Grey eyed him as he approached. “Show-off,” muttered Grey, diving back into the apples and grapes.
    â€œJealous,” said Neville, doing the same.
    John settled next to his wife and handed her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes with as she finally caught