Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
The Resident Patient
Ourblindswerehalf-drawn,andHolmeslaycurleduponthesofa,readingandre-readingaletterwhichhehadreceivedbythemorningpost.Formyself,mytermofserviceinIndiahadtrainedmetostandheatbetterthancold,andathermometerofninetywasnohardship.Butthepaperwasuninteresting.Parliamenthadrisen.Everybodywasoutoftown,andIyearnedforthegladesoftheNewForestortheshingleofSouthsea.Adepletedbankaccounthadcausedmetopostponemyholiday,andastomycompanion,neitherthecountrynortheseapresentedtheslightestattractiontohim.Helovedtolieintheverycentreoffivemillionsofpeople,withhisfilamentsstretchingoutandrunningthroughthem,responsivetoeverylittlerumourorsuspicionofunsolvedcrime.Appreciationofnaturefoundnoplaceamonghismanygifts,andhisonlychangewaswhenheturnedhismindfromtheevildoerofthetowntotrackdownhisbrotherofthecountry.
FindingthatHolmeswastooabsorbedforconversation,Ihadtossedasidethebarrenpaper,and,leaningbackinmychairIfellintoabrownstudy.Suddenlymycompanion’svoicebrokeinuponmythoughts.
"Youareright,Watson,"saidhe."Itdoesseemaverypreposterouswayofsettlingadispute."
"Mostpreposterous!"Iexclaimed,andthen,suddenlyrealizinghowhehadechoedtheinmostthoughtofmysoul,Isatupinmychairandstaredathiminblankamazement.
"Whatisthis,Holmes?"Icried."ThisisbeyondanythingwhichIcouldhaveimagined.
