139: Sherlock Holmes (ACD): Pragmatic
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vocab_drabblesTitle: Pragmatic
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Prompt: pragmatic
Notes: References to "Silver Blaze"
Summary: John Straker's mistress is not ashamed.
“Aren’t you even a bit ashamed, Emma?”
“Haven’t time, Julia. Have to be getting on with things,” replied Emma pragmatically.
“Doctor Watson has published the whole story,” went on Julia, undeterred. She waved at the folded copy of
The Strand and made a face. “At least he does us the courtesy of not giving the name of the women for whom John Straker bought the dress. I don’t know what I should do if anyone ever learned that my sister’s desire for pretty things lured a married man to commit a heinous crime—”
“He paid for it, didn’t he?” Emma pouted. “Poor horsey. But don’t wallow, Julia. Look.”
Emma drew a roll from her handbag and began counting out notes.
Julia’s eyes grew round as saucers. “Where in heavens did you get that money?”
“I sold the dress! Thirty guineas! More than Johnny paid for it! Did you know there’s a very lucrative trade in infamous ladies’ wear? I didn’t. Until today. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? A mistress’ insurance policy.”
“Oh, Emma. Well, at least the rent’s paid.”
“Shall I have a flutter?” teased Emma.
“Don’t you dare!”
Emma snorted. “You’re right: the turf’s too pure for me.”
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Prompt: pragmatic
Notes: References to "Silver Blaze"
Summary: John Straker's mistress is not ashamed.
“Aren’t you even a bit ashamed, Emma?”
“Haven’t time, Julia. Have to be getting on with things,” replied Emma pragmatically.
“Doctor Watson has published the whole story,” went on Julia, undeterred. She waved at the folded copy of
The Strand and made a face. “At least he does us the courtesy of not giving the name of the women for whom John Straker bought the dress. I don’t know what I should do if anyone ever learned that my sister’s desire for pretty things lured a married man to commit a heinous crime—”
“He paid for it, didn’t he?” Emma pouted. “Poor horsey. But don’t wallow, Julia. Look.”
Emma drew a roll from her handbag and began counting out notes.
Julia’s eyes grew round as saucers. “Where in heavens did you get that money?”
“I sold the dress! Thirty guineas! More than Johnny paid for it! Did you know there’s a very lucrative trade in infamous ladies’ wear? I didn’t. Until today. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? A mistress’ insurance policy.”
“Oh, Emma. Well, at least the rent’s paid.”
“Shall I have a flutter?” teased Emma.
“Don’t you dare!”
Emma snorted. “You’re right: the turf’s too pure for me.”
