Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда

Story of the Door

           “Well,itwasthisway,”returnedMr.Enfield: “Iwascominghomefromsomeplaceattheendoftheworld,aboutthreeo’clockofablackwintermorning,andmywaylaythroughapartoftownwheretherewasliterallynothingtobeseenbutlamps. Streetafterstreet,andallthefolksasleepstreetafterstreet,alllightedupasifforaprocessionandallasemptyasachurchtillatlastIgotintothatstateofmindwhenamanlistensandlistensandbeginstolongforthesightofapoliceman. Allatonce,Isawtwofigures: onealittlemanwhowasstumpingalongeastwardatagoodwalk,andtheotheragirlofmaybeeightortenwhowasrunningashardasshewasabledownacrossstreet. Well,sir,thetworanintooneanothernaturallyenoughatthecorner;andthencamethehorriblepartofthething; forthemantrampledcalmlyoverthechild’sbodyandleftherscreamingontheground. Itsoundsnothingtohear,butitwashellishtosee. Itwasn’tlikeaman;itwaslikesomedamnedJuggernaut. Igaveaview-halloa,tooktomyheels,collaredmygentleman,andbroughthimbacktowheretherewasalreadyquiteagroupaboutthescreamingchild. Hewasperfectlycoolandmadenoresistance,butgavemeonelook,souglythatitbroughtoutthesweatonmelikerunning. Thepeoplewhohadturnedoutwerethegirl’sownfamily;andprettysoon,thedoctor,forwhomshehadbeensent,putinhisappearance. 

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