Vincente joined into the contemplating. "Probably he doesn't mind," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully; not very different from the boy before him. "Holmes doesn't seem to be the kind to care what people whisper behind his back. He's... Watson calls it 'bohemian', I think. He likes to do things in his own different way, and he doesn't care what people say about it, because he likes being himself. And I'm glad he's like that. Otherwise, we might not find Holmes that fun to read, innit?" And again he made that conspiratorial wink.
An omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for trifles.
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