Повернення Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Second Stain
Inthewindowwasasumptuouswriting-desk,andeverydetailoftheapartment,thepictures,therugs,andthehangings,allpointedtoatastewhichwasluxurioustothevergeofeffeminacy.
“SeentheParisnews?”askedLestrade.
Holmesnodded.
“OurFrenchfriendsseemtohavetouchedthespotthistime.Nodoubtit’sjustastheysay.Sheknockedatthedoor—surprisevisit,Iguess,forhekepthislifeinwater-tightcompartments—heletherin,couldn’tkeepherinthestreet.Shetoldhimhowshehadtracedhim,reproachedhim.Onethingledtoanother,andthenwiththatdaggersohandytheendsooncame.Itwasn’talldoneinaninstant,though,forthesechairswereallsweptoveryonder,andhehadoneinhishandasifhehadtriedtoholdheroffwithit.We’vegotitallclearasifwehadseenit.”
Holmesraisedhiseyebrows.
“Andyetyouhavesentforme?”
“Ah,yes,that’sanothermatter—ameretrifle,butthesortofthingyoutakeaninterestin—queer,youknow,andwhatyoumightcallfreakish.Ithasnothingtodowiththemainfact—can’thave,onthefaceofit.”
“Whatisit,then?”
“Well,youknow,afteracrimeofthissortweareverycarefultokeepthingsintheirposition.Nothinghasbeenmoved.Officerinchargeheredayandnight.Thismorning,asthemanwasburiedandtheinvestigationover—sofarasthisroomisconcerned—wethoughtwecouldtidyupabit.Thiscarpet.Yousee,itisnotfasteneddown,onlyjustlaidthere.Wehadoccasiontoraiseit.Wefound——”
“Yes?Youfound——”
Holmes’sfacegrewtensewithanxiety.
