Возвращение Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Dancing Men
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TheinterviewleftSherlockHolmesverythoughtful,andseveraltimesinthenextfewdaysIsawhimtakehisslipofpaperfromhisnotebookandlooklongandearnestlyatthecuriousfiguresinscribeduponit.Hemadenoallusiontotheaffair,however,untiloneafternoonafortnightorsolater.Iwasgoingoutwhenhecalledmeback.
“Youhadbetterstayhere,Watson.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIhadawirefromHiltonCubittthismorning.YourememberHiltonCubitt,ofthedancingmen?HewastoreachLiverpoolStreetatone-twenty.Hemaybehereatanymoment.Igatherfromhiswirethattherehavebeensomenewincidentsofimportance.”
Wehadnotlongtowait,forourNorfolksquirecamestraightfromthestationasfastasahansomcouldbringhim.Hewaslookingworriedanddepressed,withtiredeyesandalinedforehead.
“It’sgettingonmynerves,thisbusiness,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe,ashesank,likeaweariedman,intoanarmchair.“It’sbadenoughtofeelthatyouaresurroundedbyunseen,unknownfolk,whohavesomekindofdesignuponyou,butwhen,inadditiontothat,youknowthatitisjustkillingyourwifebyinches,thenitbecomesasmuchasfleshandbloodcanendure.She’swearingawayunderit—justwearingawaybeforemyeyes.”
“Hasshesaidanythingyet?”
“No,Mr.Holmes,shehasnot.Andyettherehavebeentimeswhenthepoorgirlhaswantedtospeak,andyetcouldnotquitebringherselftotaketheplunge.Ihavetriedtohelpher,butIdaresayIdiditclumsily,andscaredherfromit.
