Собака Баскервиллей

Mr. Sherlock Holmes

           Hewasaverytall,thinman,withalongnoselikeabeak,whichjuttedoutbetweentwokeen,grayeyes, setcloselytogetherandsparklingbrightlyfrombehindapairofgold-rimmedglasses. Hewascladinaprofessionalbutratherslovenlyfashion,forhisfrock-coatwasdingyandhistrousersfrayed. Thoughyoung,hislongbackwasalreadybowed,andhewalkedwithaforwardthrustofhisheadandageneralairofpeeringbenevolence. AsheenteredhiseyesfelluponthestickinHolmes’shand,andherantowardsitwithanexclamationofjoy. "Iamsoveryglad,"saidhe."IwasnotsurewhetherIhadleftithereorintheShippingOffice. Iwouldnotlosethatstickfortheworld." 

           "Apresentation,Isee,"saidHolmes. 

           "Yes,sir." 

           "FromCharingCrossHospital?" 

           "Fromoneortwofriendsthereontheoccasionofmymarriage." 

           "Dear,dear,that’sbad!"saidHolmes,shakinghishead. 

           Dr.Mortimerblinkedthroughhisglassesinmildastonishment. 

           "Whywasitbad?" 

           "Onlythatyouhavedisarrangedourlittledeductions.Yourmarriage,yousay?" 

           "Yes,sir.Imarried,andsoleftthehospital,andwithitallhopesofaconsultingpractice.Itwasnecessarytomakeahomeofmyown." 

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