The play opens at 221B Baker Street - of course ;-)
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Watson:
I say, Holmes, the fog is as thick as pea soup.

Holmes:
And it has been for days, Watson.
My mind is shrouded in boredom.
Even the Agony columns do nothing but
antagonize me.

Watson:
May I fix you a whiskey?
I'll mix one for myself before making my way
through this gloom to home.

Holmes:
Do so, Watson - though I doubt if it will lift the
heavy spirit that has settled down on me.

Watson:
Here you are, Holmes...what?... I swear
I heard a creak on the stairs...did you hear it?

Holmes: It's Mrs Hudson.

Watson: How do you know that?

Holmes: It's Mrs. Hudson's flicker.

Watson: Flicker? Ha! You're up to your old tricks again.

Holmes:
It's no trick, dear boy, just keen observation.
The flame in the gas lamp flickers when someone ascends
the seventeen steps to the lodgings. It's quite easy to
establish their weight by the movement of the flame, and I
recognize that flicker as Mrs Hudson's.

Watson: You still amaze me, Holmes.

Holmes: Come in, Mrs Hudson!

Mrs Hudson:
Good evening Dr Watson.
Excuse me, Mr Holmes, but I've had the strangest feeling
that someone is pacing through this heavy fog, approaching
and then retreating from my door.

From glancing out I believe, Sir, that it is a lady -
and on such a dreary night, too.

Holmes:
Ah...a visitor and perhaps an escape from this lassitude.

Watson:
Shall I peek out the window, Holmes?

Holmes:
Without being noticed, please do, Watson.

Watson:
Yes, I see the form approaching and a lovely figure it is...
But now she retreats into the night again...

Holmes:
Do you recognize the lady, Watson?

Watson:
My god, Holmes, that's no lady -- that's my wife!