I Am Not The Law, But I

...holmes, Who Loathed Every Form Of Society With His Whole Bohemian Soul, Remained In Our Lodgings In Baker Street, Buried Among His Old Books, And Alternating From Week To Week Between Cocaine And Ambition, The Drowsiness Of The Drug, And The Fierce Energy Of His Own Keen Nature.

Keep Your Revolver Near You Night And Day, And Never Relax Your Precautions.

All Right, Watson. Don’t Look So Scared,” He Muttered In A Very Weak Voice. “it’s Not As Bad As It Seems.” “thank God For That!” “i’m A Bit Of A Single-stick Expert, As You Know. I Took Most Of Them On My Guard. It Was The Second Man That Was Too Much For Me.” “what Can I Do, Holmes? Of Course, It Was That Damned Fellow Who Set Them On. I’ll Go And Thrash The Hide Off Him If You Give The Word.” “good Old Watson!(...)

Yet Birth, And Lust, And Illness, And Death Are Changeless Things, And When One Of These Harsh Facts Springs Out Upon A Man At Some Sudden Turn Of The Path Of Life, It Dashes Off For The Moment His Mask Of Civilization And Gives A Glimpse Of The Stranger And Stronger Face Below.

There's A Light In A Woman's Eyes That Speaks Louder Than Words.