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." 

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