In light of the morning's argument, Holmes deemed it sensible to await Watson's ascension of the stairs rather than attacking directly. Besides, he still had not deduced how to apologise without making matters worse.
Mrs. Hudson thought of threatening to withhold dessert tonight if the detective did not show a bit of concern but decided this needed to be worked out between her two lodgers. She went down to attend to the poor Doctor, who had not yet made it farther than the hall.
"Oh, Doctor," the good woman wailed. "You're fair frozen stiff!" She carefully pulled the crackling overcoat off the exhausted man's shoulders amid a faint word of thanks. "Why didn't you take a cab?"
"I did…but there was a young family slipping along on the street…a woman and two little ones," Watson whispered tiredly, finally dropping the heavy physician's bag onto the hall table and rubbing his bad shoulder.
"Mr. Holmes was worried about you," Mrs. Hudson said quietly.
"About my safety, or my gambling habits?" the Doctor asked a bit bitterly, hanging his hat on the peg but keeping his walking-stick for he knew he would need it badly to climb the stairs.
Mrs. Hudson's eyes sharpened sternly but softened at the sight of the small paper-wrapped parcel lying on the table beside the snow-dripping black bag.
Will be continued (again).