Sherlock

It being chilly, I decided to stop and have some coffee. Glancing at the newspaper headlines in the racks, I read that there had been a murder of a child in Dover the night before, but I didn't think anything of it, except that I was of the belief that this sort of thing didn't happen in this part of the world.

Arriving for my first time in London, I consulted my travel guide that listed a number of bed and breakfasts clustered in particular area of the city, picked one and proceeded to it. The lady proprietor said she was full, while giving me an unsavory eye, and told me to try down the street. It was a quaint tree lined avenue with three story wooden Victorian row houses.

With my next inquiry I was taken in by a wonderful plump young Irish woman who seemed to be taken with me. I received my room on the second floor, unloaded my gear and proceeded to take a hot bath, in which I soaked myself for probably a couple of hours. I had been on the road from Rome for about five or six days. It being approximately the second week in April, I had come through some pretty nippy weather, exposed to the elements and outdoors both the night and day.

Probably stayed about a week. The breakfasts were great, scones and coffee and she favoring me, offered me all that I wanted, if I was one of the last of the morning diners, which I generally was. She said she was going back to Ireland in the summer and offered that I should come for a visit if I got over that way, up on the Northwest coast by the sea.

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