Собака Баскервиллей
Death on the Moor
"Thisismostimportant,"saidhewhenIhadconcluded. "ItfillsupagapwhichIhadbeenunabletobridge,inthismostcomplexaffair. Youareaware,perhaps,thatacloseintimacyexistsbetweenthisladyandthemanStapleton?"
"Ididnotknowofacloseintimacy."
"Therecanbenodoubtaboutthematter. Theymeet,theywrite,thereisacompleteunderstandingbetweenthem. Now,thisputsaverypowerfulweaponintoourhands. IfIcouldonlyuseittodetachhiswife—"
"Hiswife?"
"Iamgivingyousomeinformationnow,inreturnforallthatyouhavegivenme. TheladywhohaspassedhereasMissStapletonisinrealityhiswife."
"Goodheavens,Holmes! Areyousureofwhatyousay? HowcouldhehavepermittedSirHenrytofallinlovewithher?"
"SirHenry’sfallinginlovecoulddonoharmtoanyoneexceptSirHenry. HetookparticularcarethatSirHenrydidnotmakelovetoher,asyouhaveyourselfobserved. Irepeatthattheladyishiswifeandnothissister."
"Butwhythiselaboratedeception?"
"Becauseheforesawthatshewouldbeverymuchmoreusefultohiminthecharacterofafreewoman."
Allmyunspokeninstincts,myvaguesuspicions,suddenlytookshapeandcentreduponthenaturalist. Inthatimpassive,colourlessman,withhisstrawhatandhisbutterfly-net,Iseemedtoseesomethingterrible —acreatureofinfinitepatienceandcraft,withasmilingfaceandamurderousheart.
