More accurately, on the bed and on the table lay various pieces of what had once been a body.Holmes was leaning with his back against the wall, his countenance deathly white. "The door was open," he said incongruously. "I was passing by, and the door was open.""Holmes," I whispered in horror."The door was open," he said once more, and then buried his face in his hands.
Lyndsay Faye, Dust and Shadow: An Account of the Ripper Killings by Dr. John H. Watson
guilt, horror, john-watson, sherlock-holmes