Пригоди Шерлока Холмса

           IreneAdler,asIwillstillcallher,hadhurriedupthesteps;butshestoodatthetopwithhersuperbfigureoutlinedagainstthelightsofthehall,lookingbackintothestreet. 

           "Isthepoorgentlemanmuchhurt?"sheasked. 

           "Heisdead,"criedseveralvoices. 

           "No,no,there’slifeinhim!"shoutedanother. "Buthe’llbegonebeforeyoucangethimtohospital." 

           "He’sabravefellow,"saidawoman. "Theywouldhavehadthelady’spurseandwatchifithadn’tbeenforhim. Theywereagang,andaroughone,too. Ah,he’sbreathingnow." 

           "Hecan’tlieinthestreet. Maywebringhimin,marm?" 

           "Surely. Bringhimintothesittingroom. Thereisacomfortablesofa. Thisway,please!" 

           SlowlyandsolemnlyhewasborneintoBrionyLodgeandlaidoutintheprincipalroom,whileIstillobservedtheproceedingsfrommypostbythewindow. Thelampshadbeenlit,buttheblindshadnotbeendrawn,sothatIcouldseeHolmesashelayuponthecouch. Idonotknowwhetherhewasseizedwithcompunctionatthatmomentfortheparthewasplaying,butIknowthatIneverfeltmoreheartilyashamedofmyselfinmylifethanwhenIsawthebeautifulcreatureagainstwhomIwasconspiring,orthegraceandkindlinesswithwhichshewaitedupontheinjuredman. AndyetitwouldbetheblackesttreacherytoHolmestodrawbacknowfromthepartwhichhehadintrustedtome. Ihardenedmyheart,andtookthesmoke-rocketfromundermyulster. Afterall,Ithought,wearenotinjuringher. Wearebutpreventingherfrominjuringanother.