There was a woman, once. I knew her less than a day. A quarter of an hour's conversation....

[waiting with Mrs. Munro outside Roger's hospital room] Sherlock Holmes: There was a woman, once. I knew her less than a day. A quarter of an hour's conversation. She needed my help. She needed so desperately to be understood by someone... Me. So, I laid out the particulars of her case as I saw them... To her satisfaction, I thought. I watched her walk away. And within hours she'd ended her life. By identifying the cause of her despair with such clarity, I'd given her carte blanche to do just as she intended. I should've done whatever it took to save her. Lie to her, make up a story. Take her by the hand and hold her as she wept, and said, "Come live with me. "Let us be alone together." But I was fearful. Selfish. She's the reason I came here to my bees, so that I couldn't harm anyone ever again. [pause] Sherlock Holmes: I'm leaving you the house. You and Roger. House, grounds, apiary, everything within and without. And as I shan't change my mind on this point, you will see, I trust, that it will be greatly less complicated for all concerned if the two of you don't go off to somewhere like... Portsmouth.