-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Артур Конан Дойл
-
- Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
-
- Стр. 166/238
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
'
Is
this
Mr.
Melas
,
Harold
?
"
said
he
.
"
'
Yes
.
'
"
'
Well
done
,
well
done
!
No
ill-will
,
Mr.
Melas
,
I
hope
,
but
we
could
not
get
on
without
you
.
If
you
deal
fair
with
us
you
'll
not
regret
it
,
but
if
you
try
any
tricks
,
God
help
you
!
"
He
spoke
in
a
nervous
,
jerky
fashion
,
and
with
little
giggling
laughs
in
between
,
but
somehow
he
impressed
me
with
fear
more
than
the
other
.
"
'
What
do
you
want
with
me
?
"
I
asked
.
"
'
Only
to
ask
a
few
questions
of
a
Greek
gentleman
who
is
visiting
us
,
and
to
let
us
have
the
answers
.
But
say
no
more
than
you
are
told
to
say
,
or
--
"
here
came
the
nervous
giggle
again
--
'
you
had
better
never
have
been
born
.
'
"
As
he
spoke
he
opened
a
door
and
showed
the
way
into
a
room
which
appeared
to
be
very
richly
furnished
,
but
again
the
only
light
was
afforded
by
a
single
lamp
half-turned
down
.
The
chamber
was
certainly
large
,
and
the
way
in
which
my
feet
sank
into
the
carpet
as
I
stepped
across
it
told
me
of
its
richness
.
I
caught
glimpses
of
velvet
chairs
,
a
high
white
marble
mantelpiece
,
and
what
seemed
to
be
a
suit
of
Japanese
armour
at
one
side
of
it
.
There
was
a
chair
just
under
the
lamp
,
and
the
elderly
man
motioned
that
I
should
sit
in
it
.
The
younger
had
left
us
,
but
he
suddenly
returned
through
another
door
,
leading
with
him
a
gentleman
clad
in
some
sort
of
loose
dressing-gown
who
moved
slowly
towards
us
.
As
he
came
into
the
circle
of
dim
light
which
enabled
me
to
see
him
more
clearly
I
was
thrilled
with
horror
at
his
appearance
.
He
was
deadly
pale
and
terribly
emaciated
,
with
the
protruding
,
brilliant
eyes
of
a
man
whose
spirit
was
greater
than
his
strength
.
But
what
shocked
me
more
than
any
signs
of
physical
weakness
was
that
his
face
was
grotesquely
criss-crossed
with
sticking-plaster
,
and
that
one
large
pad
of
it
was
fastened
over
his
mouth
.
"
'
Have
you
the
slate
,
Harold
?
"
cried
the
older
man
,
as
this
strange
being
fell
rather
than
sat
down
into
a
chair
.
'
Are
his
hands
loose
?
Now
,
then
,
give
him
the
pencil
.
You
are
to
ask
the
questions
,
Mr.
Melas
,
and
he
will
write
the
answers
.
Ask
him
first
of
all
whether
he
is
prepared
to
sign
the
papers
?
"
"
The
man
's
eyes
flashed
fire
.
