“I had the strangest dream the other night. I dreamt that we were on a case, another infestation of infernal invaders, and after applying your deductive powers and bearding them in their lair, you'd been caught by the nasties. I forget what they looked like, all a bit vague, that's dreams. Yet one thing was clear, clear as a bell, they were going to kill you, and they were gloating about it the way nasties always do. Somehow they knew that I had promised to look after you, and they were taunting me. Laughing in me face. And when I woke up I thought- if they did carry out their ghastly threat, if you were to suffer and expire at their hands, the last thought to pass through your mind would be 'Where's Henry? He said he'd be here.' And I'd realised that I'd rather face a thousand nasties than to have you think that of me.”