Етюд у багряних тонах
Light in the Darkness.
Iwentdownstairsandcarriedthedogupstairinmyarms. It’slabouredbreathingandglazingeyeshowedthatitwasnotfarfromitsend. Indeed,itssnow-whitemuzzleproclaimedthatithadalreadyexceededtheusualtermofcanineexistence. Iplacedituponacushionontherug.
“Iwillnowcutoneofthesepillsintwo,”saidHolmes,anddrawinghispenknifehesuitedtheactiontotheword. “Onehalfwereturnintotheboxforfuturepurposes. TheotherhalfIwillplaceinthiswineglass,inwhichisateaspoonfulofwater. Youperceivethatourfriend,theDoctor,isright,andthatitreadilydissolves.”
“Thismaybeveryinteresting,”saidLestrade,intheinjuredtoneofonewhosuspectsthatheisbeinglaughedat,“Icannotsee,however,whatithastodowiththedeathofMr.JosephStangerson.”
“Patience,myfriend,patience! Youwillfindintimethatithaseverythingtodowithit. Ishallnowaddalittlemilktomakethemixturepalatable,andonpresentingittothedogwefindthathelapsitupreadilyenough.”
Ashespokeheturnedthecontentsofthewineglassintoasaucerandplaceditinfrontoftheterrier,whospeedilylickeditdry. SherlockHolmes’earnestdemeanourhadsofarconvincedusthatweallsatinsilence,watchingtheanimalintently,andexpectingsomestartlingeffect. Nonesuchappeared,however. Thedogcontinuedtoliestretchedupontho16cushion,breathinginalabouredway,butapparentlyneitherthebetternortheworseforitsdraught.
