“But there can be no grave for Sherlock Holmes or Doctor Watson… Shall they not always live in Baker Street? Are they not there instant, as one writes? … Outside, the hansoms rattle through the rain, and Moriarty plans his latest devilry. Within, the sea-coal flames upon the hearth, and Holmes and Watson take their well-won ease… So they still live for all that love them well, in a romantic chamber of the heart, in a nostalgic country of the mind, where it is always 1895."
(‘The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes’, Vincent Starrett.)






















