I Don’t Care How You Faked It

I am overwhelmed by the rush of information that came with the Sherlock trailer, despite having known more or less everything for months now, ever since the #setlock, not to mention the fact that it’s all Conan Doyle canon. So what I can do for you, is sharing a bit from the Sign of Four, I hope you won’t consider it a spoiler (come on it was out in Nineteenth century, literally).

Miss Morstan entered the room with a firm step and an outward composure of manner. She was a blonde young lady, small, dainty, well gloved, and dressed in the most perfect taste. There was, however, a plainness and simplicity about her costume which bore with it a suggestion of limited means . The dress was a sombre grayish beige, untrimmed and unbraided, and she wore a small turban of the same dull hue, relieved only by a suspicion of white feather in the side. Her face had neither regularity of feature nor beauty of complexion, but her expression was sweet and amiable, and her large blue eyes were singularly spiritual and sympathetic. In an experience of women which extends over many nations and three separate continents, I have never looked upon a face which gave a clearer promise of a refined and sensitive nature.

Read Watson, look at Watson, we all know what comes next. Now the question is, are we prepared to see John Watson’s heart be broken once again? In spite of the Nineteenth century and all, I’m not sure I am.

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