Пригоди Шерлока Холмса
The Man with the Twisted Lip
"No,IthinkthatI’lltakeit."
"Verygood.Comethisway,ifyouplease." Heledusdownapassage,openedabarreddoor,passeddownawindingstair,andbroughtustoawhitewashedcorridorwithalineofdoorsoneachside.
"Thethirdontherightishis,"saidtheinspector. "Hereitis!" Hequietlyshotbackapanelintheupperpartofthedoorandglancedthrough.
"Heisasleep,"saidhe. "Youcanseehimverywell."
Webothputoureyestothegrating. Theprisonerlaywithhisfacetowardsus,inaverydeepsleep,breathingslowlyandheavily. Hewasamiddle-sizedman,coarselycladasbecamehiscalling,withacolouredshirtprotrudingthroughtherentinhistatteredcoat. Hewas,astheinspectorhadsaid,extremelydirty,butthegrimewhichcoveredhisfacecouldnotconcealitsrepulsiveugliness. Abroadwhealfromanoldscarranrightacrossitfromeyetochin,andbyitscontractionhadturneduponesideoftheupperlip,sothatthreeteethwereexposedinaperpetualsnarl. Ashockofverybrightredhairgrewlowoverhiseyesandforehead.
"He’sabeauty,isn’the?"saidtheinspector.
"Hecertainlyneedsawash,"remarkedHolmes. "Ihadanideathathemight,andItookthelibertyofbringingthetoolswithme." HeopenedtheGladstonebagashespoke,andtookout,tomyastonishment,averylargebath-sponge.
"He!he!Youareafunnyone,"chuckledtheinspector.
"Now,ifyouwillhavethegreatgoodnesstoopenthatdoorveryquietly,wewillsoonmakehimcutamuchmorerespectablefigure."
