"Brother mine," he said, "bravo," and turned away, but I felt a pang at the praise.
"Sherlock." The tone of my voice caught him mid-step, and he waited, back straight and head high for the bad news. "Watson was injured."
At that he spun back, eyes flashing in the uncertain light. "Badly?"
"Enough so that I thought it better to leave him with the Garrideb sisters. But he would not let them send for another doctor."
"You should have done so then," Sherlock snapped, summoning a nearby cab with a peremptory wave. "Watson makes a worse patient than I do."