“Come, Watson, come!' he cried. 'The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!'Ten minutes later we were both in a cab and rattling through the silent streets on our way to Charing Cross Station.”
“Come, Watson, come!" he cried. The game is afoot.”
“How is it we come through the most difficult miles? Do we come silent or singing? Do we come in company, or do we come alone? Are we all alone on the open plains under starlit skies, all alone with the cooing owls in the dark of early morning? Our ancestors, our grandmothers, will their spirits take pity on us?”
“Thirty minutes later we were in Aunt Gene's carriage, Pam compulsively adjusting her bonnet, me meditating upon all of the ways it might be possible to kill myself with the in-cab stylus.”
“Watson. Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same.”
“To come to nothing through something is the way to outside from both sides.”