Этюд в багровых тонах
The Lauriston Garden Mystery
AsIwatchedhimIwasirresistiblyremindedofapure-bloodedwell-trainedfoxhoundasitdashesbackwardsandforwardsthroughthecovert,whininginitseagerness,untilitcomesacrossthelostscent. Fortwentyminutesormorehecontinuedhisresearches,measuringwiththemostexactcarethedistancebetweenmarkswhichwereentirelyinvisibletome,andoccasionallyapplyinghistapetothewallsinanequallyincomprehensiblemanner. Inoneplacehegatheredupverycarefullyalittlepileofgreydustfromthefloor,andpackeditawayinanenvelope. Finally,heexaminedwithhisglasstheworduponthewall,goingovereveryletterofitwiththemostminuteexactness. Thisdone,heappearedtobesatisfied,forhereplacedhistapeandhisglassinhispocket.
“Theysaythatgeniusisaninfinitecapacityfortakingpains,”heremarkedwithasmile. “It’saverybaddefinition,butitdoesapplytodetectivework.”
GregsonandLestradehadwatchedthemanoeuvres9oftheiramateurcompanionwithconsiderablecuriosityandsomecontempt. Theyevidentlyfailedtoappreciatethefact,whichIhadbeguntorealize,thatSherlockHolmes’smallestactionswerealldirectedtowardssomedefiniteandpracticalend.
“Whatdoyouthinkofit,sir?”theybothasked.
“ItwouldberobbingyouofthecreditofthecaseifIwastopresumetohelpyou,”remarkedmyfriend. “Youaredoingsowellnowthatitwouldbeapityforanyonetointerfere.” Therewasaworldofsarcasminhisvoiceashespoke.
