Этюд в багровых тонах
A Continuation of the Reminiscences of John Watson, M.D.
Itwasclaimedthatsameevening,andreturned;butintheintervalIhadtakenamouldingofit,andhadaduplicateconstructed. BymeansofthisIhadaccesstoatleastonespotinthisgreatcitywhereIcouldrelyuponbeingfreefrominterruption. HowtogetDrebbertothathousewasthedifficultproblemwhichIhadnowtosolve.
“Hewalkeddowntheroadandwentintooneortwoliquorshops,stayingfornearlyhalf-an-hourinthelastofthem. Whenhecameouthestaggeredinhiswalk,andwasevidentlyprettywellon. Therewasahansomjustinfrontofme,andhehailedit. Ifolloweditsoclosethatthenoseofmyhorsewaswithinayardofhisdriverthewholeway. WerattledacrossWaterlooBridgeandthroughmilesofstreets,until,tomyastonishment,wefoundourselvesbackintheTerraceinwhichhehadboarded. Icouldnotimaginewhathisintentionwasinreturningthere;butIwentonandpulledupmycabahundredyardsorsofromthehouse. Heenteredit,andhishansomdroveaway. Givemeaglassofwater,ifyouplease. Mymouthgetsdrywiththetalking.”
Ihandedhimtheglass,andhedrankitdown.
“That’sbetter,”hesaid. “Well,Iwaitedforaquarterofanhour,ormore,whensuddenlytherecameanoiselikepeoplestrugglinginsidethehouse. Nextmomentthedoorwasflungopenandtwomenappeared,oneofwhomwasDrebber,andtheotherwasayoungchapwhomIhadneverseenbefore.
