Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
The Yellow Face
Iapproachedandknockedatthedoor,whichwasinstantlyopenedbyatall,gauntwomanwithaharsh,forbiddingface.
"‘Whatmayyoubewantin’?"sheaskedinaNorthernaccent.
"Iamyourneighbouroveryonder,"saidI,noddingtowardsmyhouse.‘Iseethatyouhaveonlyjustmovedin,soIthoughtthatifIcouldbeofanyhelptoyouinany—’
"‘Ay,We’lljustaskyewhenwewantye,"saidshe,andshutthedoorinmyface.Annoyedatthechurlishrebuff,Iturnedmybackandwalkedhome.Allevening,thoughItriedtothinkofotherthings,mymindwouldstillturntotheapparitionatthewindowandtherudenessofthewoman.Ideterminedtosaynothingabouttheformertomywife,forsheisanervous,highlystrungwoman,andIhadnowishthatsheshouldsharetheunpleasantimpressionwhichhadbeenproduceduponmyself.Iremarkedtoher,however,beforeIfellasleep,thatthecottagewasnowoccupied,towhichshereturnednoreply.
"Iamusuallyanextremelysoundsleeper.Ithasbeenastandingjestinthefamilythatnothingcouldeverwakemeduringthenight.Andyetsomehowonthatparticularnight,whetheritmayhavebeentheslightexcitementproducedbymylittleadventureornotIknownot,butIsleptmuchmorelightlythanusual.HalfinmydreamsIwasdimlyconsciousthatsomethingwasgoingonintheroom,andgraduallybecameawarethatmywifehaddressedherselfandwasslippingonhermantleandherbonnet.
