Странная история доктора Джекила и мистера Хайда

Story of the Door

           “Yes,it’sabadstory. Formymanwasafellowthatnobodycouldhavetodowith,areallydamnableman;andthepersonthatdrewthechequeistheverypinkoftheproprieties,celebratedtoo,and(whatmakesitworse)oneofyourfellowswhodowhattheycallgood. Black-mail,Isuppose;anhonestmanpayingthroughthenoseforsomeofthecapersofhisyouth. Black-MailHouseiswhatIcallthatplacewiththedoor,inconsequence. Thougheventhat,youknow,isfarfromexplainingall,”headded,andwiththewordsfellintoaveinofmusing. 

           FromthishewasrecalledbyMr.Uttersonaskingrathersuddenly: “Andyoudon’tknowifthedrawerofthechequelivesthere?” 

           “Alikelyplace,isn’tit?”returnedMr.Enfield. “ButIhappentohavenoticedhisaddress;helivesinsomesquareorother.” 

           “Andyouneveraskedabouttheplacewiththedoor?”saidMr.Utterson. 

           “No,sir:Ihadadelicacy,”wasthereply. “Ifeelverystronglyaboutputtingquestions; itpartakestoomuchofthestyleofthedayofjudgment. Youstartaquestion,andit’slikestartingastone. Yousitquietlyonthetopofahill;andawaythestonegoes,startingothers; andpresentlysomeblandoldbird(thelastyouwouldhavethoughtof)isknockedontheheadinhisownback-gardenandthefamilyhavetochangetheirname. No,sir,Imakeitaruleofmine: themoreitlookslikeQueerStreet,thelessIask.” 

           “Averygoodrule,too,”saidthelawyer. 

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