Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса

           "What’sthematter,then?"

           "TheBrookStreetbusiness."

           "Anyfreshnews?"

           "Tragic,butambiguous,"saidhe,pullinguptheblind."Lookatthis—asheetfromanotebook,with‘ForGod’ssakecomeatonce.P.T.,"scrawleduponitinpencil.Ourfriend,thedoctor,washardputtoitwhenhewrotethis.Comealong,mydearfellow,forit’sanurgentcall."

           Inaquarterofanhourorsowewerebackatthephysician’shouse.Hecamerunningouttomeetuswithafaceofhorror.

           "Oh,suchabusiness!"hecriedwithhishandstohistemples.

           "Whatthen?"

           "Blessingtonhascommittedsuicide!"

           Holmeswhistled.

           "Yes,hehangedhimselfduringthenight."

           Wehadentered,andthedoctorhadprecededusintowhatwasevidentlyhiswaiting-room.

           "IreallyhardlyknowwhatIamdoing,"hecried."Thepolicearealreadyupstairs.Ithasshakenmemostdreadfully."

           "Whendidyoufinditout?"

           "Hehasacupofteatakenintohimearlyeverymorning.Whenthemaidentered,aboutseven,theretheunfortunatefellowwashanginginthemiddleoftheroom.Hehadtiedhiscordtothehookonwhichtheheavylampusedtohang,andhehadjumpedofffromthetopoftheveryboxthatheshowedusyesterday."

           Holmesstoodforamomentindeepthought.