Возвращение Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Empty House
“Well,I’veaconscience,sir,andwhenIchancedtoseeyougointothishouse,asIcamehobblingafteryou,Ithoughttomyself,I’lljuststepinandseethatkindgentleman,andtellhimthatifIwasabitgruffinmymannertherewasnotanyharmmeant,andthatIammuchobligedtohimforpickingupmybooks.”
“Youmaketoomuchofatrifle,”saidI.“MayIaskhowyouknewwhoIwas?”
“Well,sir,ifitisn’ttoogreataliberty,Iamaneighbourofyours,foryou’llfindmylittlebookshopatthecornerofChurchStreet,andveryhappytoseeyou,Iamsure.Maybeyoucollectyourself,sir.Here’sBritishBirds,andCatullus,andTheHolyWar—abargain,everyoneofthem.Withfivevolumesyoucouldjustfillthatgaponthatsecondshelf.Itlooksuntidy,doesitnot,sir?”
Imovedmyheadtolookatthecabinetbehindme.WhenIturnedagain,SherlockHolmeswasstandingsmilingatmeacrossmystudytable.Irosetomyfeet,staredathimforsomesecondsinutteramazement,andthenitappearsthatImusthavefaintedforthefirstandthelasttimeinmylife.Certainlyagreymistswirledbeforemyeyes,andwhenitclearedIfoundmycollar-endsundoneandthetinglingafter-tasteofbrandyuponmylips.Holmeswasbendingovermychair,hisflaskinhishand.
“MydearWatson,”saidthewell-rememberedvoice,“Ioweyouathousandapologies.Ihadnoideathatyouwouldbesoaffected.”
Igrippedhimbythearms.
“Holmes!”Icried.
