Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда
Dr. Lanyon’s Narrative
AndIshowedhimanexample,andsatdownmyselfinmycustomaryseatandwithasfairanimitationofmyordinarymannertoapatient, asthelatenessofthehour,thenatureofmypre-occupations,andthehorrorIhadofmyvisitor,wouldsuffermetomuster.
“Ibegyourpardon,Dr.Lanyon,”herepliedcivillyenough. “Whatyousayisverywellfounded;andmyimpatiencehasshownitsheelstomypoliteness. Icomehereattheinstanceofyourcolleague,Dr.HenryJekyll,onapieceofbusinessofsomemoment;andIunderstood...” Hepausedandputhishandtohisthroat,andIcouldsee,inspiteofhiscollectedmanner,thathewaswrestlingagainsttheapproachesofthehysteria —“Iunderstood,adrawer...”
ButhereItookpityonmyvisitor’ssuspense,andsomeperhapsonmyowngrowingcuriosity.
“Thereitis,sir,”saidI,pointingtothedrawer,whereitlayonthefloorbehindatableandstillcoveredwiththesheet.
Hesprangtoit,andthenpaused,andlaidhishanduponhisheart: Icouldhearhisteethgratewiththeconvulsiveactionofhisjaws;andhisfacewassoghastlytoseethatIgrewalarmedbothforhislifeandreason.
“Composeyourself,”saidI.
Heturnedadreadfulsmiletome,andasifwiththedecisionofdespair,pluckedawaythesheet. Atsightofthecontents,heutteredoneloudsobofsuchimmensereliefthatIsatpetrified.
