Several small raps at the detective's small but sturdy oak door sounded in the Bakerstreet abode, or rather, below it, as the mid-winter wind blew a gale outside.
Olivia Flaversham had tied her slim brown tail down to a railing by Basil's front door, the way many mouse pups were taught, so that the tiny little girl would not be carried away by the wind. She gripped her baret tightly with tiny little paws, holding it against her ears so that she wouldn't lose it, whilst her little checkered skirt was blown this way and that, her cotton knickers making a show of themselves as brittle brown leaves almost thrice Olivia's size skittered along the cobbled street.
Oh, what an awful day! This nasty wind was making her bottom terribly cold!
The little Scottish mouse looked forlornly at the door, and the welcoming ochre glow just beneath. Please, Mister Basil! Open the door!
|