Пригоди Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle
"No,no;therealname,"saidHolmessweetly. "Itisalwaysawkwarddoingbusinesswithanalias."
Aflushsprangtothewhitecheeksofthestranger. "Wellthen,"saidhe,"myrealnameisJamesRyder."
"Preciselyso. HeadattendantattheHotelCosmopolitan. Praystepintothecab,andIshallsoonbeabletotellyoueverythingwhichyouwouldwishtoknow."
Thelittlemanstoodglancingfromonetotheotherofuswithhalf-frightened,half-hopefuleyes,asonewhoisnotsurewhetherheisonthevergeofawindfallorofacatastrophe. Thenhesteppedintothecab,andinhalfanhourwewerebackinthesitting-roomatBakerStreet. Nothinghadbeensaidduringourdrive,butthehigh,thinbreathingofournewcompanion,andtheclaspingsandunclaspingsofhishands,spokeofthenervoustensionwithinhim.
"Hereweare!"saidHolmescheerilyaswefiledintotheroom. "Thefirelooksveryseasonableinthisweather. Youlookcold,Mr.Ryder. Praytakethebasket-chair. Iwilljustputonmyslippersbeforewesettlethislittlematterofyours. Now,then! Youwanttoknowwhatbecameofthosegeese?"
"Yes,sir."
"Orrather,Ifancy,ofthatgoose. Itwasonebird,Iimagineinwhichyouwereinterested—white,withablackbaracrossthetail."
Ryderquiveredwithemotion. "Oh,sir,"hecried,"canyoutellmewhereitwentto?"
"Itcamehere."
