Етюд у багряних тонах
Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
“Heeitheravoidstheplaceforweeks,orelseheworkstherefrommorningtonight. Ifyoulike,weshalldriveroundtogetherafterluncheon.”
“Certainly,”Ianswered,andtheconversationdriftedawayintootherchannels.
AswemadeourwaytothehospitalafterleavingtheHolborn,StamfordgavemeafewmoreparticularsaboutthegentlemanwhomIproposedtotakeasafellow-lodger.
“Youmustn’tblamemeifyoudon’tgetonwithhim,”hesaid; “IknownothingmoreofhimthanIhavelearnedfrommeetinghimoccasionallyinthelaboratory. Youproposedthisarrangement,soyoumustnotholdmeresponsible.”
“Ifwedon’tgetonitwillbeeasytopartcompany,”Ianswered. “Itseemstome,Stamford,”Iadded,lookinghardatmycompanion,“thatyouhavesomereasonforwashingyourhandsofthematter. Isthisfellow’stempersoformidable,orwhatisit?Don’tbemealy-mouthedaboutit.”
“Itisnoteasytoexpresstheinexpressible,”heansweredwithalaugh. “Holmesisalittletooscientificformytastes—itapproachestocold-bloodedness. Icouldimaginehisgivingafriendalittlepinchofthelatestvegetablealkaloid,notoutofmalevolence,youunderstand,butsimplyoutofaspiritofinquiryinordertohaveanaccurateideaoftheeffects. Todohimjustice,Ithinkthathewouldtakeithimselfwiththesamereadiness. Heappearstohaveapassionfordefiniteandexactknowledge.”
“Veryrighttoo.”
“Yes,butitmaybepushedtoexcess.
