The snowfall was beginning to ebb when Watson and Baker regained the sidewalk. It was getting late, and they would have a difficult time finding a tavern that hadn’t already closed down for the holiday.
Being carried upon two strong, sturdy legs was such a long-forgotten privilege that Watson did not initially observe that the streets had changed
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(And doesn't the world owe Watson forgiveness? Or should Watson forgive the world. I'm not sure I read that last line right.)
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