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Madame Simza Heron: [showing Holmes and Watson their horses, to Watson] The black one is yours. The grey one is mine. [to Holmes] And this is for you.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, hm, right! Where are the wagons?
Madame Simza Heron: The wagon is too slow. Can’t you ride? [Watson grimaces, hesitatingly]
Dr. John Watson: It’s not that he can’t ride. How is it you put it, Holmes?
Sherlock Holmes: They're dangerous at both ends and crafty in the middle. Why would I want anything with a mind of its own bobbing about between my legs? Then I should require a bicycle, thank you very much! It’s 1891! Could have chartered a balloon! [He stalks off; Watson turns to Simza]
Dr. John Watson: How can we make this more manageable?
[Cuts to the group travelling on horses through the woods, followed by Holmes - who is riding a little pony!]
Sherlock Holmes: Where's the fire?


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