"No, I haven't eaten," Watson sighed. "I've barely thought of it, to be truthful."

He rubbed his forehead, sighing heavily, and drained the last of his brandy in another too-quick gulp before setting the glass aside. He wasn't entirely sure what to ask Mrs. Hudson for, if anything. Food seemed like a distant thing, an alien thing, and he wasn't even sure he could have got it down. That Holmes might seemed even more unlikely. And truly, what else could he ask her?