After holding the tweezers in the flame for a moment or two, Watson watched Holmes while he let the metal cool slightly. He was beginning to be more worried for Holmes than he was for himself.
Gritting his teeth in anticipation, he thrust the tip of the tweezers under his skin. It hurt, and he muttered curses under his breath, the sort of curse that was perfectly suited to the army.
It took some work, but he dug the bullet out from his flesh. With a small clink, he set the chunk of metal on the table, and pressed a wet cloth to his wound to staunch the fresh flow of blood. He was pale, breathing hard from the pain and the effort.
The next step was to sew himself up, but he would need to regain his equilibrium again before doing that.
"I've ruined," he said, hoarsely, "your handkerchief," and he began to laugh, with a sort of mild hysteria. He was thinking of another handkerchief, on another evening, after a successful boxing match.
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Gritting his teeth in anticipation, he thrust the tip of the tweezers under his skin. It hurt, and he muttered curses under his breath, the sort of curse that was perfectly suited to the army.
It took some work, but he dug the bullet out from his flesh. With a small clink, he set the chunk of metal on the table, and pressed a wet cloth to his wound to staunch the fresh flow of blood. He was pale, breathing hard from the pain and the effort.
The next step was to sew himself up, but he would need to regain his equilibrium again before doing that.
"I've ruined," he said, hoarsely, "your handkerchief," and he began to laugh, with a sort of mild hysteria. He was thinking of another handkerchief, on another evening, after a successful boxing match.