Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда

           “Thenyoumustknowaswellastherestofusthattherewassomethingqueeraboutthatgentleman—somethingthatgaveamanaturn—Idon’tknowrightlyhowtosayit,sir,beyondthis: thatyoufeltitinyourmarrowkindofcoldandthin.” 

           “IownIfeltsomethingofwhatyoudescribe,”saidMr.Utterson. 

           “Quiteso,sir,”returnedPoole. “Well,whenthatmaskedthinglikeamonkeyjumpedfromamongthechemicalsandwhippedintothecabinet,itwentdownmyspinelikeice. Oh,Iknowit’snotevidence,Mr.Utterson. I’mbook-learnedenoughforthat; butamanhashis,feelings,andIgiveyoumybible-worditwasMr.Hyde!” 

           “Ay,ay,”saidthelawyer. “Myfearsinclinetothesamepoint. Evil,Ifear,founded—evilwassuretocome—ofthatconnection. Ay,truly,Ibelieveyou;IbelievepoorHarryiskilled;andIbelievehismurderer(forwhatpurpose,Godalonecantell)isstilllurkinginhisvictim’sroom. Well,letournamebevengeance. CallBradshaw.” 

           Thefootmancameatthesummons,verywhiteandnervous. 

           “Pullyourselftogether,Bradshaw,”saidthelawyer. “Thissuspense,Iknow,istellinguponallofyou;butitisnowourintentiontomakeanendofit. Poole,here,andIaregoingtoforceourwayintothecabinet. Ifalliswell,myshouldersarebroadenoughtobeartheblame.