[Comprehensive Classics] Detective Mary

This time out, Mary finally had experience.

Taking advantage of Mrs. Gardner's inattention, she secretly changed into a dress sewn by Miss Morstan herself.The Irish girl's craftsmanship is really good, and she also ingeniously used flower needles to add a bit of inconspicuous decoration to the corners of the skirt.

But it's a pity that the cotton material limits Miss Morstan's performance.Cotton cloth in the Victorian period is completely different from that in the 21st century. In modern society, for the sake of beauty, comfort, and other conveniences in life, the "cotton cloth" worn by people will more or less have synthetic ingredients added.

The so-called natural cotton is actually not as good as the improved fabric.In the past, Mary only listened to this concept, but now she deeply feels it.

No matter how careful Miss Morstan was, the whole dress looked a little rough and didn't fit well, let alone the shape, which was quite different from Mary's usual clothes.

She lifted the hem of her skirt: "This way it won't be conspicuous?"

Miss Morstan laughed.

"Your complexion is fair and your hands are immature," she said. "As long as you put your heart into it, you can still tell the difference, Miss Mary. But it doesn't matter. Anyway, it's just for keeping a low profile, and it's not about mixing with some mysterious organization."

This is true.

Mrs. Bennet has good genes and has beautiful daughters.Mary, who is the least beautiful among the sisters, looks like a pretty little maid after changing her clothes. It is much better to mix in the streets like this than to wear young lady's clothes.

She went out with Miss Morstan: "You say celebrate, how do you celebrate? Are you going to a tavern?"

Miss Morstan gave Mary a surprised look: "You want to go to the tavern?"

Mary: "Yeah."

The main reason is that there are always scenes like taverns in film and television dramas set at the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the twentieth century, and there are mixed fish and dragons, people come and go, and there may be some useful writing materials.

But Miss Morstan shook her head: "It's not safe, miss, and the tavern is full of men, if you break in, it will be too conspicuous."

This is true.

It wasn't Miss Morstan who reminded her, but Mary forgot that taverns in the nineteenth century belonged to men.Even among the common people, women don’t go out alone after nightfall—married women have to take care of their families and children, while unmarried girls have to maintain their “honor” issues. Those who are still wandering out late at night are either secret lovers or prostitutes. female.

The few gentlemen who kindly helped her cover up in order to let her participate in the case were already exceptions among exceptions, with kindness in their hearts.

"I wish I were taller," so Mary sighed helplessly, "I can change into men's clothes and have a longer hat brim, maybe I can sneak in without being noticed."

But Mary was petite and frail-looking.It does not conform to the aesthetics of this era, and it is really difficult for women to disguise themselves as men.

"Those men stink together," Miss Morstan reassured. "What is there to do? Don't worry, our Irishman's place is not as spacious as the bar, but we won't neglect you."

Of course not!

Hearing what the Irish girl said, Mary smiled: "I'm looking forward to it."

Entering the worker gathering area again, she walked into the street wearing a plain dress, without attracting anyone's attention.When she reached the Irishman's house, Mary heard the noise and singing of the dark and narrow alleys before she stepped into them.

"It didn't even wait for us to start."

Miss Morstan complained, but a smile had already covered her face, she turned her head to look at Mary: "Let's go?"

The last time Mary received guard and indifference from the workers as soon as she entered the door, but this time, Mary's treatment has undergone a 180-degree reversal.

The red-haired Irish girl opened the door, but before she could speak, there was a sound of crackling and smashing wine bottles in the dark room.Mary Morstan's smile froze on her face, and she frowned immediately: "Are you guys going to turn the world upside down?!"

Several excited young people turned their heads and stopped suddenly when they saw Mary behind her.

The whole room became extremely silent for a moment.

Mary: "..."

She was taken aback by the eerie silence, but the next moment the Irish workers were uproarious again.

"Henry, come quickly," said Dawson, the young man who led the trouble in front of the factory that day, "Miss Mary is here!"

Obviously, he was the one who showed the most obvious hostility when we first met, but today, he is the one who showed great enthusiasm.Dawson, full of enthusiasm, dragged Henry to Mary: "Miss, you are here, we have been waiting for you for a long time."

Miss Morstan crossed her arms and let out a cold snort. She glanced at the wine bottle in Dawson's hand with distaste: "You call this waiting?"

Dawson laughed out loud: "We can't invite a decent lady to drink, so what if we drink in advance?"

"it does not matter."

The relaxed atmosphere between them infected Mary, and she hooked the corners of her lips: "It's not convenient for me to drink, so I can't stop others from celebrating."

"Where in the world can I find such a decent lady like you!"

Mary's words brought cheers from several young people, and they followed Dawson to Mary, expressing their gratitude one after another.It seems that she is not an unmarried girl who sneaked out after changing clothes, but a muse in the hearts of the workers.

You know, Mary has lived in this era for 19 years, and she has never been flattered by so many men at the same time.The sincerity and enthusiasm in the eyes of these young workers quickly resolved Mary's bewilderment.

They meant nothing more than frivolity, flirtatiousness, or wooing a mate to praise Mary as the brightest star in the sky.These young people in patched clothes thanked Mary completely from the bottom of their hearts, and helped their friend Henry Deck to wash away his grievances.

"If it hadn't been for you and Mr. Holmer, Miss," Dawson said excitedly, "Henry would have really been desperate. He has two sisters and a mother. If he couldn't find a job, his family would be ruined." La!"

Mary felt great, and her whole body was warmed by their kindness.

To be honest, before she followed the case, it was entirely out of curiosity about the truth and this era, but now when she faced the smiles of the Irish workers, an unprecedented satisfaction enveloped Mary.

That's great, she has only one thought in her heart, it's really great to be able to save a young man's future and a family.

Although she didn't expect anything in return, and the poor workers couldn't give her anything, everything in this cramped and dark room now was the most beautiful sight in the world to Mary.

For Mary, she was just a little effort, but for the workers, it really saved the lives of the whole family.Seeing the grateful expressions of Henry Deckard and the other workers, Mary felt that all the going back and forth was so worth it.

These gratitudes are already the greatest thanks in themselves.

"Did Mr. Hamp allow Henry to go back to the factory?" Mary asked with concern.

"Hamp said he had other plans," Henry said at this moment, "but he promised to make it up to me."

Promises alone don't feel like enough.

However, the factory owners in the Victorian era would not sign a labor contract with each worker. A personal promise made by the capitalist to the workers is already a very meaningful thing in this era.

So Mary could only nod her head, thinking that if she saw Mr. Hamp later, she would have to urge him a few times, so as not to forget or just perfunctory.

She looked at Henry for a moment, always feeling that Henry Deckard had been in a bad state since he woke up from the burning thing at the devil's heel.

The person who intends to destroy the evidence has not yet been found, and it is not known whether it was the dead Captain Carter who sneaked into the slums with the devil's heel.This thought swirled in Mary's heart, she secretly remembered it, and then said, "Are... are you in good health? How is your recovery?"

Don't blame Mary for being careless, but after so long, Henry Deckard still looks a little out of spirits, with big dark circles under his eyes, and lingering exhaustion in his face, as if he still hasn't recovered from the devil. Come back from the hallucination of the heels.

"It's ok."

Henry shook his head reluctantly: "It's just that the hallucinations caused by the chemicals are too realistic, which has caused me to have nightmares frequently recently, and it will pass in time."

Wouldn't it have caused some ptsd, or left nerve trauma?

Mary couldn't help feeling worried when she heard the words. Modern medicine had just started in the Victorian era, but there were no psychologists and neurologists.

And this is not a problem at all in the eyes of Irish workers. Everyone is doing physical work day and night. Who hasn't suffered from minor illnesses and pains?Dawson took Henry's shoulder carelessly: "He just drank too little recently, don't take it to heart, we must get him drunk today, I don't believe he will have nightmares!"

Mary: "..."

However, the joyful atmosphere infected Henry to some extent, and today is to celebrate his restoration of reputation.This gave Henry Deck some energy, and was dragged aside by several youths to drink.

"Don't blame them," Miss Morstan said helplessly. "Hamp canceled the charges against Henry. Even if Henry doesn't get compensation, he can go to work in other factories. After all, he and his family won't starve to death."

With two younger sisters and a mother, it sounds like Henry Deckard has a heavy burden on him.

And Mary knew that workers like Henry were too numerous to count in London.She turned to look at the eponymous Mary Morstan: "What about you, Miss Morstan? Do you want to support your own family?"

"That's not it."

Miss Morstan raised her hand smartly: "I am much luckier than them. My father is from England. He joined the army and went to India when I was young."

Mary's eyes widened.

This is the same background as Mrs. Watson in the original book, but Mary Morstan in the original book is a single lady similar to Mary, not an Irish worker.

Could it be...

"What about your mother?" Mary asked, "Since my father is a soldier, it's not like, um..."

"Reduced to living in a slum and working in a factory, right? My parents are not married, and it's not against the law for him to ignore me."

"..."

Mary was ashamed to say it, but Miss Morstan didn't care at all, and she still had a smile on her face, as if her poor life hadn't affected her at all.

"how?"

Seeing Mary's embarrassment, the red-haired Irish girl smiled chicly: "Actually, this is pretty good. I can live freely, and I have nothing to worry about, isn't it great?"

"If you have a headache, who will take care of you?"

"I take care of each other with a few girls who live with me," she replied, "Besides, we are thick-skinned and thick-skinned, no more expensive than your single ladies, Miss Mary, except for breathing cotton wool from the factory into your lungs, there is no life risk at all .”

Mary shivered.

What Miss Morstan was talking about was the chief culprit that killed countless workers in this era—pneumoconiosis.

It's good that she didn't mention it, but Mary immediately became a little worried when she mentioned it.Not to mention psychiatrists, the workers in the slums simply can't afford to see a doctor.Pneumoconiosis, a work-related disease, is nothing in the 21st century, but it is enough to torture people to death in this era.

In this regard, Mary can do limited.

She can help the Irish workers to clear their innocence, and can help Mr. Bingley track down the clues of the contract, but she can't help the workers all over the UK get rid of their illness and improve their treatment.

"All right."

Mary's expression was too obvious, but it was Miss Morstan who reassured her with a feast: "Don't worry about it, we're living a good life here, today is for celebration, don't think about spoiling things."

Having said that, she took a step forward and led Mary to find a quieter corner. Just as the two sat down, the door opened again.

A girl who had sat next to Miss Morstan came running in, and said excitedly, "Mr. Holmes is here, with, with—"

"With whom?" Dawson asked curiously.

Then there is no need to answer, everyone knows the answer.

Sherlock Holmes walked in with a well-dressed gentleman. In order to deceive others, he still wore the old overcoat, which was out of place against the tall gentleman around him.

It's like a reenactment of the scene of Mary's visit last time.

But unlike Mary who came to the slums for the first time, the noble gentleman did not show any embarrassment or nervousness. His piercing eyes quickly looked around, and then took off his hat, revealing a rather handsome face Face.

"Which of you is Henry Deckard?"

His voice was low, with a lingering northern accent when he spoke.

"I am John Thornton, and I have something to discuss with him."

—John Thornton!

Mary covered her mouth in surprise.

This gentleman who personally visited the slums is the heroine of Mrs. Gaskell's novel "North and South" and also another partner of Mr. Bingley in this world.

The author has something to say: Pneumoconiosis was very common in the Victorian period. The cotton wool in the cotton spinning factory or the dust in the mines were inhaled into the lungs of the workers, and they became ill due to overwork, ranging from pain to death.Moreover, in those days, it was very common for a worker to support a family with a meager salary. There was no labor contract and no medical insurance. Once this person fell down, it was very normal for a family to be destroyed like this.

Mary wanted to investigate the case before purely as a risk, and now she has been rewarded, one is the kindness of the workers, and the other is "authenticity" - for her this is fun, but for the workers, this is a matter of life and death matter.

And a warm welcome to Mr. Thornton, the second iron-blooded, straight-blooded, handsome and sullen male god in Great England, who just doesn't laugh, and can't speak if he doesn't get mad at the girl he likes! [applause.jpg]