Возвращение Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez
“Well,Wilson,anynews?”
“No,sir—nothing.”
“Noreportsofanystrangerseen?”
“No,sir.Downatthestationtheyarecertainthatnostrangereithercameorwentyesterday.”
“Haveyouhadinquiriesmadeatinnsandlodgings?”
“Yes,sir:thereisnoonethatwecannotaccountfor.”
“Well,it’sonlyareasonablewalktoChatham.Anyonemightstaythereortakeatrainwithoutbeingobserved.ThisisthegardenpathofwhichIspoke,Mr.Holmes.I’llpledgemywordtherewasnomarkonityesterday.”
“Onwhichsidewerethemarksonthegrass?”
“Thisside,sir.Thisnarrowmarginofgrassbetweenthepathandtheflower-bed.Ican’tseethetracesnow,buttheywerecleartomethen.”
“Yes,yes:someonehaspassedalong,”saidHolmes,stoopingoverthegrassborder.“Ourladymusthavepickedherstepscarefully,mustshenot,sinceontheonesideshewouldleaveatrackonthepath,andontheotheranevencleareroneonthesoftbed?”
“Yes,sir,shemusthavebeenacoolhand.”
IsawanintentlookpassoverHolmes’sface.
“Yousaythatshemusthavecomebackthisway?”
“Yes,sir,thereisnoother.”
“Onthisstripofgrass?”
“Certainly,Mr.Holmes.”
“Hum!Itwasaveryremarkableperformance—veryremarkable.Well,Ithinkwehaveexhaustedthepath.Letusgofarther.Thisgardendoorisusuallykeptopen,Isuppose?Thenthisvisitorhadnothingtodobuttowalkin.Theideaofmurderwasnotinhermind,orshewouldhaveprovidedherselfwithsomesortofweapon,insteadofhavingtopickthisknifeoffthewriting-table.
