Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса

           "

           Afewminuteslaterwewerejoinedbyashort,stoutmanwhoseolivefaceandcoalblackhairproclaimedhisSouthernorigin,thoughhisspeechwasthatofaneducatedEnglishman.HeshookhandseagerlywithSherlockHolmes,andhisdarkeyessparkledwithpleasurewhenheunderstoodthatthespecialistwasanxioustohearhisstory.

           "Idonotbelievethatthepolicecreditme—onmyword,Idonot,"saidheinawailingvoice."Justbecausetheyhaveneverheardofitbefore,theythinkthatsuchathingcannotbe.ButIknowthatIshallneverbeeasyinmyminduntilIknowwhathasbecomeofmypoormanwiththesticking-plasteruponhisface."

           "Iamallattention,"saidSherlockHolmes.

           "ThisisWednesdayevening,"saidMr.Melas."Well,then,itwasMondaynight—onlytwodaysago,youunderstand—thatallthishappened.Iamaninterpreter,asperhapsmyneighbourtherehastoldyou.Iinterpretalllanguages—ornearlyall—butasIamaGreekbybirthandwithaGrecianname,itiswiththatparticulartonguethatIamprincipallyassociated.FormanyyearsIhavebeenthechiefGreekinterpreterinLondon,andmynameisverywellknowninthehotels.

           "IthappensnotunfrequentlythatIamsentforatstrangehoursbyforeignerswhogetintodifficulties,orbytravellerswhoarrivelateandwishmyservices.Iwasnotsurprised,therefore,onMondaynightwhenaMr.