DESCRIPTION:
Basil: AHA! The villain slipped this time! I shall HAVE HIM!
Out of my way! Out of my way!!

Dawson: I say! Who are you!?

Basil: What? Oh! Basil of Baker Street, my good fellow.

Olivia: Mr. Basil, I need your help, and...

Basil: All in good time!

Olivia: But... but you don't understand! I'm in terrible trouble!

Basil: If you'll excuse me. [humming]

Dawson: Now now, N-Now see here! This young lady is in need of assistance. I think you ought to listen.

Basil: Hold this please, Doctor.

Dawson: Of course. I...
Uh... Wait just a moment. How just did you know that I was a doctor?

Basil: A Surgeon to be exact. Just returned from militarily duty in Afghanistan. [blows into gun] Am I right?

Dawson: Why, [chuckle] yes! Magor David Q. Dawson. But, how could you possibly...

Basil: Quite simple really. You've sone your torn cuff together with a lamberts stitch. Which of course only a surgeon uses. And the thread is a unique form of catgut easily distinguished by his peculiar pungency, found only in afghan proveniences.

Dawson: Amazing!

Basil: Actually, it's elementary, my dear Dawson.

Ms. Judson: What in Heavens name!? Oh! Oh my! [spits out feathers] My good pillows! Mr. Basil! [spit] How many times have I...

Basil: There, there, Ms. Judson. It's quite alright. Uh, [sniff] Mmm, I believe I smell some of those delightful cheese crumpets of yours. Why don't you fetch our guest some?

Ms. Judson: B-b-b-but I-I-I...!

Basil: Now... I know that bullet's here somewhere... ah! Thank you miss...

Olivia: Flaversham. Olivia Flaversham.

Basil: Whatever.

Olivia: Yes, but you don't understand!

Basil: Shh!



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