Дивна історія доктора Джекіла і містера Хайда
Story of the Door
EvenonSunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaforest; andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger.
Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthandgoingeast,thelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;andjustatthatpoint,acertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet. Itwastwostorieshigh;showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthelowerstoryandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence. Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained. Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels; childrenkeptshopuponthesteps; theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings; andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages.
Mr.Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street; butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed.
“Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”heasked; andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withaveryoddstory.”
“Indeed?”saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?”
