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sherlock60Rating: Gen
Summary: Pining Holmes pines.
You address the bottle’s spider-nest shawl.
‘But what is love without display, public or private?’
Oh, Watson.
It is a poem written in the sand before the incoming tide.
It is a serenade in an empty house.
It is making pawns of men so that an heiress’s treasure lies at the bottom of the Thames.
That is love.
Isn’t it?
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