[Comprehensive British and American] Those years when I opened a dessert shop on Baker Street

At night, the rain stopped, the whole city was wet, and the lights shone on the ground, making the ground very bright.

Sherlock said that he wanted to digest the food when he was full, so he insisted on taking Wensti for a walk after dinner. The walk lasted two hours. It was already late at night when they returned to Baker Street. When they walked to the intersection, they saw "The Adams Family "A slender figure stood under the dessert shop.

It wasn't until Wensti saw that figure that she remembered that she still owed a "no beauty that doesn't wither or destroy".

Standing under the dessert shop is Dr. Newman.

Dr. Newman was wearing a beige coat and looked a little tired. There was a transparent umbrella next to him. The water droplets on the umbrella fell on the ground, and it was wet, but the surface of the umbrella was already dry. He has been here for a long time. .

Sherlock, who was originally parallel to Winsty, walked in front of her and covered her.

But Dr. Newman had already seen Winsty, he came up and said to Sherlock, "Sir, please step aside."

Sherlock inquired about the person in front of him. It was the first time he met him. Dr. Newman had a pair of emerald green eyes hiding the world, like green snakes hidden deep in the jungle, and the cedar, sandalwood, and amber essences he was familiar with. A special taste mixed with medical alcohol with a concentration of 70.00%.

Sherlock would not forget the smell, he didn't give in.

Winsty came out from behind him: "Sir, this is Dr. Newman, someone I know."

All the clues in Sherlock's mind were sorted into a single line.

A warm smile appeared on Dr. Newman's face, like a boiled sugar egg: "I'm glad I haven't seen you for so long, you still remember me."

As he said that, Doctor Newman glanced at Sherlock. The man's eyes contained obvious precautions and warnings, and Wensty was protected by him like a little lamb.

"Is it convenient to have a few words with you alone?" Dr. Newman looked at Wensti with a smile.

His eyes were so soft that it was hard to refuse.

"It won't take too long."

"Okay," Winsty agreed, and said to Sherlock, "Sir, you go back first."

Sherlock's eyebrows frowned, and he stared at Wensty, with dark tides surging in his sea-like eyes.

"I'll be back soon." Winsty didn't understand either, so she said a few words to Dr. Newman, why did Sherlock look at her with bitter and hateful eyes.

In the end, Sherlock went home alone, and when he left, the corners of his clothes swayed with reluctance.

At this point, only Wensty and Dr. Newman were left in the empty street.

"Doctor Newman, what can you do for me?"

"William, you can call me William."

Dr. Newman's eyes can make people think of the scene of the snow melting in the early spring.

"Okay, William. What do you want me to do?" Winsty didn't want to argue with him about names, except for Sherlock, she called anyone's name easily.

Dr. Newman put his hands in his pockets, with a relaxed and casual look: "It's nothing serious, I just want to ask, is my dessert ready? Summer is almost over."

After today's rain, the weather in London will become cooler and cooler, and summer will soon change shifts with autumn.

"It should be soon."

"Should? Actually, you are not ready yet."

Winsty smiled sheepishly, indeed.

Dr. Newman sighed softly, with some inexplicable sadness, he said, "Maybe I'm going to make things difficult for you."

"Ok?"

"Can it be done tomorrow?"

He posed a difficult problem for her, and she had no idea at all to solve it.Just as Wensti was about to refuse, Dr. Newman continued, "Tomorrow is my birthday, and this is one of my birthday wishes."

"I can try it."

Winsty couldn't say no to it, and no matter what she said, she couldn't disturb her birthday mood.

"Actually, you don't need to be too stressed, you will always do well." Dr. Newman shouted to her across the street as he watched Wensti walk into No. 221.

Winsty smiled at him and waved goodbye.

At this time, the sound of bullets piercing the wall was heard from upstairs.

When Wensty returned home, she found that there were a few holes in the wall. Sherlock fell on the couch and had already changed into a set of light gray pajamas, with his feet still bare.

He saw Winsty come back, took a look, and patched a few more holes in the wall.

"My God, what's the matter with you?"

Shylock's hand holding the wooden barn drooped, and pointed out: "Your family believes in Satan instead of God, you should say 'my Lucifer'."

"Thank you so much for remembering our family's beliefs. Now tell me, why are you so cruel to the walls?"

Sherlock spat out two words: "Boring."

I don't know if it was my own illusion, but when Sherlock turned his head to look at her, Wensty had the illusion that she left the pet cat alone at home and went out to have a good time by herself.

Why did Sherlock give her a pitiful feeling?

"Then find you a book to read?" Wensty sat back on the single sofa she used to sit on.

"No need," Sherlock shook his head, "it's not so boring now, what did that doctor tell you?"

"It's nothing." Winsty's attention was all on Sherlock's bare feet. He knew to remind her that she would catch a cold if she wore too little. How could he not know that he could catch a cold if he didn't wear socks?

Winsty frowned: "Why don't you wear socks?"

"It's not necessary, don't change the subject."

"I think it is very necessary. The weather is getting colder. You don't want to see me tomorrow with two snots hanging from your nose."

"I'm not so embarrassed. But if I wear socks, would you like to tell me what you talked about?"

The moment Winsty nodded, Sherlock sat up from the sofa and walked straight to his room. When he came out, he put a pair of black socks on his feet, and his feet were no longer bare.

He sat on the sofa opposite Winsty, leaning on the back of the chair with both hands: "Now you can tell me everything."

"He asked if I could prepare a dessert for him tomorrow."

In one sentence, Wensty explained the entire conversation between Dr. Newman and her. These words are not private, and it's okay to tell Sherlock.

"there is none left?"

"No... No, no, no, and, sir, your judgment is wrong. The number you burned today belongs to Dr. Newman, so it's not a pyramid scheme."

"Miss Adams," Sherlock called her out of the blue, and Winsty couldn't help but sit up straight, waiting for his next words, Sherlock leaned closer and said, "You'd better believe that he is no different from a pyramid schemer. "

Winsty was puzzled: "Why did you say that?"

"If you want to know the reason for my deduction, you have to promise me a request."

"Isn't it? We're roommates, what's the matter if you tell me? There's still a request." Winsty's eyes widened.

"We are not roommates. To be precise, I am your landlord, and you have never paid me rent for so long since you moved in. At the same time, I think it is very reasonable for you to agree to my request and let me tell you my speculation , When I asked you to talk about the content of the chat just now, I also agreed to your request to wear socks." Sherlock told her calmly.

"I told you to put on socks for your own good."

"You know that my deduction is also for your own good."

"It's different."

"What's the difference?"

Wensti was a little tired: "Okay, I can always know what your request is. You only agreed to my request after I said it before."

Sherlock thought this was reasonable, so he told her his request: "Sing that song you can't remember the words that day."

Under the light, Sherlock smiled.

However, Winsty didn't have the courage to finish singing that song in front of Sherlock. If the two of them were strangers, or if they just met, and she still wanted to kill him, she would have no embarrassment. She could sing more straightforward songs, but her mind changed, and she couldn't sing this song.

The timidity in her came out, worried that he would stop laughing after singing, and she would face Sherlock's cold pupils.

"Oh, it's not that I don't remember the words. I don't know how to sing the rest at all. Can I sing something else?"

Sherlock was unmoved, he was obsessed with this song: "You can learn it now, and you can learn a song in half an hour at the latest. I can wait for you."

"Are you so free tonight?"

"I'm extra free tonight, let's get started."

Wensti waved her hand: "Oh, I actually don't really want to know your deduction. I'm very tired today, and I'm especially sleepy. I'm going to bed first. Good night, Mr. Holmes." She got up and stretched her arms. Lazy.

"Winsty Adams!"

Ignoring Sherlock's dissatisfied shouts, Wensty walked straight towards the room, and immediately covered her head under the quilt as soon as she got back to the room.

It was another sleepless night, and the rain that had stopped began to fall again.

Wensty didn't go to sleep at all, lying on the bed thinking about how to make Dr. Newman's dessert, a little idea came to him around dawn, his mind was tired, and he finally fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke up, Sherlock was sitting on the head of her bed, flipping through a book.

Winsty was taken aback: "Didn't I lock the door?"

"Do you think that kind of lock without any technical content can stop me?" Sherlock looked at his watch, "It's already eleven thirty-four noon, and Lestrade asked us to have lunch at twelve o'clock."

"A date with us?"

"About me, but I can take you with me."

Winsty turned over. "What's wrong with Lestrade?"

"It seems that you already have the basic reasoning ability. He is indeed in trouble. How did you reason it out?" Sherlock was very satisfied that Winsty could make a correct inference.

Winsty bent her lips and smiled: "If he didn't encounter any trouble, he wouldn't want to have lunch with you!"

Sherlock: "..."

"What I said makes sense."

"There are still 22 minutes until twelve o'clock. If you want to be late, I don't mind."

"Thank you for your kindness, sir, but I'm not going to lunch with you."

"You don't want to have lunch with Lestrade? It's okay, I can call to cancel, and we can go to Scotland Yard to see the body after lunch."

"No, that's not what I meant."

"So you mean...you don't want to have lunch with me?"

Winsty had already shrunk her whole body under the quilt, Sherlock couldn't see her, and she couldn't see the disappointment flashing in Sherlock's eyes.

The author has something to say: Within this week, there will be surprises