Effort
I have often commented on the mercurial nature of my friend Sherlock Holmes, which sorely tried the patience of both our landlady and myself, but sometimes I believed he was the chief victim of his exploits.
After a strenuous week, I found myself sitting idly in front of our fire. Holmes had gone out to report to the Yard, but he walked into the sitting room now, falling into his chair without so much as taking off his hat.
"Holmes?"
He glanced at me from under drooping lids. "Hm?"
"Permit yourself some rest and go to bed."
