Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
The Resident Patient
Butasingularinterruptionbroughtustoastandstill.Thelightatthetopwassuddenlywhiskedout,andfromthedarknesscameareedy,quaveringvoice.
"Ihaveapistol,"itcried."IgiveyoumywordthatI’llfireifyoucomeanynearer."
"Thisreallygrowsoutrageous,Mr.Blessington,"criedDr.Trevelyan.
"Oh,thenitisyou,Doctor."saidthevoicewithagreatheaveofrelief."Butthoseothergentlemen,aretheywhattheypretendtobe?"
Wewereconsciousofalongscrutinyoutofthedarkness.
"Yes,yes,it’sallright,"saidthevoiceatlast."Youcancomeup,andIamsorryifmyprecautionshaveannoyedyou."
Herelitthestairgasashespoke,andwesawbeforeusasingular-lookingman,whoseappearance,aswellashisvoice,testifiedtohisjanglednerves.Hewasveryfat,buthadapparentlyatsometimebeenmuchfatter,sothattheskinhungabouthisfaceinloosepouches,likethecheeksofabloodhound.Hewasofasicklycolour,andhisthin,sandyhairseemedtobristleupwiththeintensityofhisemotion.Inhishandheheldapistol,buthethrustitintohispocketasweadvanced.
"Good-evening,Mr.Holmes,"saidhe."IamsureIamverymuchobligedtoyouforcominground.NooneeverneededyouradvicemorethanIdo.IsupposethatDr.Trevelyanhastoldyouofthismostunwarrantableintrusionintomyrooms."
"Quiteso,"saidHolmes."Whoarethesetwomen,Mr.