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Synopsis

With only the light of the bulls's-eye it was rough going and soon my hands were blooding and my legs protesting. But an untapped source of strength came to my aid. I was actually part of the stuff that dreams are made of. Because of my association with the greatest detective the world has ever known I was part of an horoic sage, a small part I will admit. Not that I felt heroic. I felt like a middle-aged commonplace man involved in exploits he was ill-suited for. But I was here with Holmes and I would not have had it any other way

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