Our client’s child, while no doubt adorable under better circumstances, was currently cold and hungry and unhappy and determined to make sure we all knew it. I bit my lip and tried to focus on my patient; Holmes, for no reason I could determine, began going through his pockets.
“I’m sorry, sirs,” said my patient. “She’s had a bad day, and there’s no one to watch her.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am,” I said, unwinding the rag she had been using as a bandage.
“Emmy,” said Holmes. “Emmy, look!”
I glanced over, surprised by his tone. He was juggling; his cigarette case, his watch, and a matchbox flew through the air in front of him. The child was captivated, and soon silent.
After a brief moment while I stared, as surprised as the toddler, I returned my focus to my patient. She was smiling through her pain, the first smile I had seen on her face since we arrived. Holmes kept juggling without looking at either of us.