"Yes. I doubt it meant very much more to Moriarty than as a way to cause pain. Moran -- Colonel Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's second-in-command and the man who will attempt to kill you sometime tonight -- is also aware." He pauses for a moment, considering.
"And probably in love with Moriarty. That's why I doubt it should be of a concern to you that they possessed this knowledge. Ruining us with a scandal would simply be tacky."
He breathes again -- he realizes that he's almost unconsciously practicing his meditative breathing -- and lets himself look at Watson. He's impossible to read. Oh, Holmes can see the little things -- what he had for lunch, where he got turned around that afternoon on his way to see a patient, one of his patients needs to replace their wallpaper -- but he can't see what really matters right now. And he isn't sure he'd presume to try to divine it, even if he could.
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"And probably in love with Moriarty. That's why I doubt it should be of a concern to you that they possessed this knowledge. Ruining us with a scandal would simply be tacky."
He breathes again -- he realizes that he's almost unconsciously practicing his meditative breathing -- and lets himself look at Watson. He's impossible to read. Oh, Holmes can see the little things -- what he had for lunch, where he got turned around that afternoon on his way to see a patient, one of his patients needs to replace their wallpaper -- but he can't see what really matters right now. And he isn't sure he'd presume to try to divine it, even if he could.