Повернення Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez
Attheendwasashortflightofstepsendinginadoor.Ourguideknocked,andthenusheredusintotheprofessor’sbedroom.
Itwasaverylargechamber,linedwithinnumerablevolumes,whichhadoverflowedfromtheshelvesandlayinpilesinthecorners,orwerestackedallroundatthebaseofthecases.Thebedwasinthecentreoftheroom,andinit,proppedupwithpillows,wastheownerofthehouse.Ihaveseldomseenamoreremarkable-lookingperson.Itwasagaunt,aquilinefacewhichwasturnedtowardsus,withpiercingdarkeyes,whichlurkedindeephollowsunderoverhungandtuftedbrows.Hishairandbeardwerewhite,savethatthelatterwascuriouslystainedwithyellowaroundhismouth.Acigaretteglowedamidthetangleofwhitehair,andtheairoftheroomwasfetidwithstaletobaccosmoke.AsheheldouthishandtoHolmes,Iperceivedthatitwasalsostainedwithyellownicotine.
“Asmoker,Mr.Holmes?”saidhe,speakinginwell-chosenEnglish,withacuriouslittlemincingaccent.“Praytakeacigarette.Andyou,sir?Icanrecommendthem,forIhavethemespeciallypreparedbyIonides,ofAlexandria.Hesendsmeathousandatatime,andIgrievetosaythatIhavetoarrangeforafreshsupplyeveryfortnight.Bad,sir,verybad,butanoldmanhasfewpleasures.Tobaccoandmywork—thatisallthatislefttome.”
Holmeshadlitacigaretteandwasshootinglittledartingglancesallovertheroom.
“Tobaccoandmywork,butnowonlytobacco,”theoldmanexclaimed.
