Дивна історія доктора Джекіла і містера Хайда
Story of the Door
Well,thechildwasnotmuchtheworse,morefrightened,accordingtotheSawbones; andthereyoumighthavesupposedwouldbeanendtoit. Buttherewasonecuriouscircumstance. Ihadtakenaloathingtomygentlemanatfirstsight. Sohadthechild’sfamily,whichwasonlynatural. Butthedoctor’scasewaswhatstruckme. Hewastheusualcut-and-dryapothecary,ofnoparticularageandcolour,withastrongEdinburghaccent,andaboutasemotionalasabagpipe. Well,sir,hewasliketherestofus; everytimehelookedatmyprisoner,IsawthatSawbonesturnsickandwhitewiththedesiretokillhim. Iknewwhatwasinhismind,justasheknewwhatwasinmine;andkillingbeingoutofthequestion,wedidthenextbest. Wetoldthemanwecouldandwouldmakesuchascandaloutofthis,asshouldmakehisnamestinkfromoneendofLondontotheother. Ifhehadanyfriendsoranycredit,weundertookthatheshouldlosethem. Andallthetime,aswewerepitchingitinredhot,wewerekeepingthewomenoffhimasbestwecould,fortheywereaswildasharpies. Ineversawacircleofsuchhatefulfaces; andtherewasthemaninthemiddle,withakindofblack,sneeringcoolness—frightenedtoo,Icouldseethat—butcarryingitoff,sir,reallylikeSatan. ‘Ifyouchoosetomakecapitaloutofthisaccident,’saidhe,‘Iamnaturallyhelpless. Nogentlemanbutwishestoavoidascene,’sayshe. ‘Nameyourfigure.’
