Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда
Dr. Lanyon’s Narrative
Andthenextmoment,inavoicethatwasalreadyfairlywellundercontrol, “Haveyouagraduatedglass?”heasked.
Irosefrommyplacewithsomethingofaneffortandgavehimwhatheasked.
Hethankedmewithasmilingnod,measuredoutafewminimsoftheredtinctureandaddedoneofthepowders. Themixture,whichwasatfirstofareddishhue,began,inproportionasthecrystalsmelted,tobrightenincolour,toeffervesceaudibly,andtothrowoffsmallfumesofvapour. Suddenlyandatthesamemoment,theebullitionceasedandthecompoundchangedtoadarkpurple,whichfadedagainmoreslowlytoawaterygreen. Myvisitor,whohadwatchedthesemetamorphoseswithakeeneye,smiled,setdowntheglassuponthetable,andthenturnedandlookeduponmewithanairofscrutiny.
“Andnow,”saidhe,“tosettlewhatremains. Willyoubewise? willyoubeguided?willyousuffermetotakethisglassinmyhandandtogoforthfromyourhousewithoutfurtherparley? orhasthegreedofcuriositytoomuchcommandofyou? Thinkbeforeyouanswer,foritshallbedoneasyoudecide. Asyoudecide,youshallbeleftasyouwerebefore,andneitherrichernorwiser,unlessthesenseofservicerenderedtoamaninmortaldistressmaybecountedasakindofrichesofthesoul.
