I shakily paced that waiting room, horrible nightmares flashing through my mind, filling me with a terror I had rarely before possessed. By the time his frantic wife arrived I was so unsteady I could scarce keep my feet.
"What happened?" she whispered.
"It – was a trap, sprung before time," I replied round the lump in my throat, "we – we were set upon ten minutes before the police were scheduled to be in position…there were too many of them…I got yanked from his back somehow, and by the time I was able to move –"
I choked, unable to continue.
Watson's physician exited his room, glancing at us.
"Well?" I snapped before Mary could.
"He will recover – wound was not particularly deep but serious enough."
His wife's eyes filled with tears, and I collapsed into my chair limply.
"He will be under again from the morphine momentarily, but one of you can see him if you hurry."
"Go ahead, Mr. Holmes."
I stared at his wife, shaking my head. She returned my look with a watery smile.
"I know him – his first thought will be if you survived the fight. Go on, I shall be there when he awakens next time."
I managed a smile.
If I had had to lose Watson to a woman, he could have chosen none better.