Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда

The Last Night

           “Thankyou,sir,”saidPoole,withanoteofsomethingliketriumphinhisvoice;andtakinguphiscandle,heledMr.Uttersonbackacrosstheyardandintothegreatkitchen,wherethefirewasoutandthebeetleswereleapingonthefloor. 

           “Sir,”hesaid,lookingMr.Uttersonintheeyes,“wasthatmymaster’svoice?” 

           “Itseemsmuchchanged,”repliedthelawyer,verypale,butgivinglookforlook. 

           “Changed? Well,yes,Ithinkso,”saidthebutler. “HaveIbeentwentyyearsinthisman’shouse,tobedeceivedabouthisvoice? No,sir;master’smadeawaywith;hewasmadeawaywitheightdaysago,whenweheardhimcryoutuponthenameofGod; andwho’sinthereinsteadofhim,andwhyitstaysthere,isathingthatcriestoHeaven,Mr.Utterson!” 

           “Thisisaverystrangetale,Poole;thisisratherawildtale,myman,”saidMr.Utterson,bitinghisfinger. “Supposeitwereasyousuppose,supposingDr.Jekylltohavebeenwell,murdered,whatcouldinducethemurderertostay? Thatwon’tholdwater; itdoesn’tcommenditselftoreason.” 

           “Well,Mr.Utterson,youareahardmantosatisfy,butI’lldoityet,”saidPoole. “Allthislastweek(youmustknow)him,orit,orwhateveritisthatlivesinthatcabinet,hasbeencryingnightanddayforsomesortofmedicineandcannotgetittohismind. 

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