Yes, I rather went over 221 words. But I had a good reason!
Don't believe me? *sighs and waves you on* You can just read it, then.
As Watson attempted to teach some manners to John, with Mrs. Murray trying and failing to help, the senior Murray struck up a conversation with me. "So," he began. "Sherlock Holmes, eh?" He grinned.
I smiled wanly back at him. It was not that he wasn't a likeable fellow, it was just that his son was blasted irritating. "Watson's told me quite a bit about you."
Murray looked surprised. "He has?"
I made a wry face. "Does Watson look like the type of person who'd never mention one of his friends, let alone the man who saved his life?"
Instead of brightening, as I had expected, Murray's face creased in a frown. "Not quite saved, really…"
I was curious as to what he meant. "Whatever do you mean?"
"His getting shot was partially my fault. I was having a bit of trouble helping another injured chap, and Watson turned around to help me, and…" Murray broke off, a slightly pained expression on his face. "Watson might not have gotten shot if I hadn't been there."
"Yes, but if you hadn't been there, there would have been nobody to help him if he had been injured anyway."
Murray was silent, leaving me to ponder.
True, it bothered me that Watson's bad leg and shoulder bothered him.
But if it weren't for his being invalided out of the army, I might never have met him.
I suddenly realized just how much I owed to those bullets.