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Dr. John Watson: [kicks the automobile in an approving manner] Not bad that. So, where are we going?
Mycroft Holmes: [out of sight] In the future there’ll be one of these machines in every town in Europe. [emerges out from under an overhanging roof]
Sherlock Holmes: Loitering in the woodshed again, are we, Myckie?
Mycroft Holmes: Good evening, Sherly.
Sherlock Holmes: Yeah.
Mycroft Holmes: I see your boot maker is ill, dear brother.
Sherlock Holmes: As I detect that you have recently changed the brand of soap with which you shave.
Mycroft Holmes: May I point out that the chimney in the front room at Baker Street is still in need of a damn good sweeping out?
Sherlock Holmes: Are you aware that the hackney carriage by which you arrived had a damaged wheel?
Mycroft Holmes: Yes, the left. And it’s plain to the meanest intelligence that you have recently acquired a new bow for your violin.
Sherlock Holmes: Same bow, new strings.
Dr. John Watson: And may I deduce, Mycroft...good evening, by the way. [gives Mycroft his hand]
Mycroft Holmes: No.
Sherlock Holmes: [to Watson] He doesn't...
Dr John Watson: Ah, well. May I deduce that you who rarely strays from the path that runs from your home to the Diogenes Club and never on a Monday when they serve your favourite potted shrimps must be here for some far more important reason than my stag party?
Mycroft Holmes: You know he’s nothing like as slow-witted as you’ve been leading me to believe, Sherly.
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