Пригоди Шерлока Холмса
The Adventure of the Copper Beeches
"PleasebeattheBlackSwanHotelatWinchesteratmiddayto-morrow"itsaid. Docome! Iamatmywit’send.
HUNTER.
"Willyoucomewithme?"askedHolmes,glancingup.
"Ishouldwishto."
"Justlookitup,then."
"Thereisatrainathalf-pastnine,"saidI,glancingovermyBradshaw. "ItisdueatWinchesterat11:30."
"Thatwilldoverynicely. ThenperhapsIhadbetterpostponemyanalysisoftheacetones,aswemayneedtobeatourbestinthemorning."
Byeleveno’clockthenextdaywewerewelluponourwaytotheoldEnglishcapital. Holmeshadbeenburiedinthemorningpapersallthewaydown,butafterwehadpassedtheHampshireborderhethrewthemdownandbegantoadmirethescenery. Itwasanidealspringday,alightbluesky,fleckedwithlittlefleecywhitecloudsdriftingacrossfromwesttoeast. Thesunwasshiningverybrightly,andyettherewasanexhilaratingnipintheair,whichsetanedgetoaman’senergy. Alloverthecountryside,awaytotherollinghillsaroundAldershot,thelittleredandgrayroofsofthefarm-steadingspeepedoutfromamidthelightgreenofthenewfoliage.
"Aretheynotfreshandbeautiful?"IcriedwithalltheenthusiasmofamanfreshfromthefogsofBakerStreet.
ButHolmesshookhisheadgravely.
