Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
The Musgrave Ritual
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"Thesearetherecordsofyourearlywork,then?"Iasked."IhaveoftenwishedthatIhadnotesofthosecases."
"Yes,myboy,thesewerealldoneprematurelybeforemybiographerhadcometoglorifyme."Heliftedbundleafterbundleinatender,caressingsortofway."Theyarenotallsuccesses,Watson,"saidhe."Buttherearesomeprettylittleproblemsamongthem.Here’stherecordoftheTarletonmurders,andthecaseofVamberry,thewinemerchant,andtheadventureoftheoldRussianwoman,andthesingularaffairofthealuminumcrutch,aswellasafullaccountofRicolettioftheclub-foot,andhisabominablewife.Andhere—ah,now,thisreallyissomethingalittlerecherche."
Hedivedhisarmdowntothebottomofthechestandbroughtupasmallwoodenboxwithaslidinglidsuchaschildren’stoysarekeptin.Fromwithinheproducedacrumpledpieceofpaper,anold-fashionedbrasskey,apegofwoodwithaballofstringattachedtoit,andthreerustyolddiscsofmetal.
"Well,myboy,whatdoyoumakeofthislot?"heasked,smilingatmyexpression.
"Itisacuriouscollection."
"Verycurious,andthestorythathangsrounditwillstrikeyouasbeingmorecuriousstill."
"Theserelicshaveahistory,then?"
"Somuchsothattheyarehistory."
"Whatdoyoumeanbythat?"
SherlockHolmespickedthemuponebyoneandlaidthemalongtheedgeofthetable.
