Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда

Story of the Door

           EvenonSunday,whenitveileditsmorefloridcharmsandlaycomparativelyemptyofpassage,thestreetshoneoutincontrasttoitsdingyneighbourhood,likeafireinaforest; andwithitsfreshlypaintedshutters,well-polishedbrasses,andgeneralcleanlinessandgaietyofnote,instantlycaughtandpleasedtheeyeofthepassenger. 

           Twodoorsfromonecorner,onthelefthandgoingeast,thelinewasbrokenbytheentryofacourt;andjustatthatpoint,acertainsinisterblockofbuildingthrustforwarditsgableonthestreet. Itwastwostorieshigh;showednowindow,nothingbutadooronthelowerstoryandablindforeheadofdiscolouredwallontheupper;andboreineveryfeature,themarksofprolongedandsordidnegligence. Thedoor,whichwasequippedwithneitherbellnorknocker,wasblisteredanddistained. Trampsslouchedintotherecessandstruckmatchesonthepanels; childrenkeptshopuponthesteps; theschoolboyhadtriedhisknifeonthemouldings; andforcloseonageneration,noonehadappearedtodriveawaytheserandomvisitorsortorepairtheirravages. 

           Mr.Enfieldandthelawyerwereontheothersideoftheby-street; butwhentheycameabreastoftheentry,theformerlifteduphiscaneandpointed. 

           “Didyoueverremarkthatdoor?”heasked; andwhenhiscompanionhadrepliedintheaffirmative,“Itisconnectedinmymind,”addedhe,“withaveryoddstory.” 

           “Indeed?”saidMr.Utterson,withaslightchangeofvoice,“andwhatwasthat?” 

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