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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
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- Стр. 146/238
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"
I
passed
over
the
grossness
of
his
language
,
as
he
seemed
half
out
of
his
mind
with
fear
.
When
I
went
upstairs
with
him
he
pointed
to
several
footprints
upon
the
light
carpet
.
"
'
Do
you
mean
to
say
those
are
mine
?
"
he
cried
.
"
They
were
certainly
very
much
larger
than
any
which
he
could
have
made
,
and
were
evidently
quite
fresh
.
It
rained
hard
this
afternoon
,
as
you
know
,
and
my
patients
were
the
only
people
who
called
.
It
must
have
been
the
case
,
then
,
that
the
man
in
the
waiting-room
had
,
for
some
unknown
reason
,
while
I
was
busy
with
the
other
,
ascended
to
the
room
of
my
resident
patient
.
Nothing
had
been
touched
or
taken
,
but
there
were
the
footprints
to
prove
that
the
intrusion
was
an
undoubted
fact
.
"
Mr.
Blessington
seemed
more
excited
over
the
matter
than
I
should
have
thought
possible
,
though
of
course
it
was
enough
to
disturb
anybody
's
peace
of
mind
.
He
actually
sat
crying
in
an
armchair
,
and
I
could
hardly
get
him
to
speak
coherently
.
It
was
his
suggestion
that
I
should
come
round
to
you
,
and
of
course
I
at
once
saw
the
propriety
of
it
,
for
certainly
the
incident
is
a
very
singular
one
,
though
he
appears
to
completely
overrate
its
importance
.
If
you
would
only
come
back
with
me
in
my
brougham
,
you
would
at
least
be
able
to
soothe
him
,
though
I
can
hardly
hope
that
you
will
be
able
to
explain
this
remarkable
occurrence
.
"
Sherlock
Holmes
had
listened
to
this
long
narrative
with
an
intentness
which
showed
me
that
his
interest
was
keenly
aroused
.
His
face
was
as
impassive
as
ever
,
but
his
lids
had
drooped
more
heavily
over
his
eyes
,
and
his
smoke
had
curled
up
more
thickly
from
his
pipe
to
emphasize
each
curious
episode
in
the
doctor
's
tale
.
As
our
visitor
concluded
,
Holmes
sprang
up
without
a
word
,
handed
me
my
hat
,
picked
his
own
from
the
table
,
and
followed
Dr.
Trevelyan
to
the
door
.
Within
a
quarter
of
an
hour
we
had
been
dropped
at
the
door
of
the
physician
's
residence
in
Brook
Street
,
one
of
those
sombre
,
flat-faced
houses
which
one
associates
with
a
West
End
practice
.
A
small
page
admitted
us
,
and
we
began
at
once
to
ascend
the
broad
,
well-carpeted
stair
.
But
a
singular
interruption
brought
us
to
a
standstill
.
The
light
at
the
top
was
suddenly
whisked
out
,
and
from
the
darkness
came
a
reedy
,
quavering
voice
.
"
I
have
a
pistol
,
"
it
cried
.
"
I
give
you
my
word
that
I
'll
fire
if
you
come
any
nearer
.
"
"
This
really
grows
outrageous
,
Mr.
Blessington
,
"
cried
Dr.
Trevelyan
.
"
Oh
,
then
it
is
you
,
Doctor
.
"
said
the
voice
with
a
great
heave
of
relief
.
"
But
those
other
gentlemen
,
are
they
what
they
pretend
to
be
?
"
