Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса

The Resident Patient

           

           Butasingularinterruptionbroughtustoastandstill.Thelightatthetopwassuddenlywhiskedout,andfromthedarknesscameareedy,quaveringvoice.

           "Ihaveapistol,"itcried."IgiveyoumywordthatI’llfireifyoucomeanynearer."

           "Thisreallygrowsoutrageous,Mr.Blessington,"criedDr.Trevelyan.

           "Oh,thenitisyou,Doctor."saidthevoicewithagreatheaveofrelief."Butthoseothergentlemen,aretheywhattheypretendtobe?"

           Wewereconsciousofalongscrutinyoutofthedarkness.

           "Yes,yes,it’sallright,"saidthevoiceatlast."Youcancomeup,andIamsorryifmyprecautionshaveannoyedyou."

           Herelitthestairgasashespoke,andwesawbeforeusasingular-lookingman,whoseappearance,aswellashisvoice,testifiedtohisjanglednerves.Hewasveryfat,buthadapparentlyatsometimebeenmuchfatter,sothattheskinhungabouthisfaceinloosepouches,likethecheeksofabloodhound.Hewasofasicklycolour,andhisthin,sandyhairseemedtobristleupwiththeintensityofhisemotion.Inhishandheheldapistol,buthethrustitintohispocketasweadvanced.

           "Good-evening,Mr.Holmes,"saidhe."IamsureIamverymuchobligedtoyouforcominground.NooneeverneededyouradvicemorethanIdo.IsupposethatDr.Trevelyanhastoldyouofthismostunwarrantableintrusionintomyrooms."

           "Quiteso,"saidHolmes."Whoarethesetwomen,Mr.

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