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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Воспоминания Шерлока Холмса
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My
friend
hardly
glanced
up
as
I
entered
,
and
I
,
seeing
that
his
investigation
must
be
of
importance
,
seated
myself
in
an
armchair
and
waited
.
He
dipped
into
this
bottle
or
that
,
drawing
out
a
few
drops
of
each
with
his
glass
pipette
,
and
finally
brought
a
test-tube
containing
a
solution
over
to
the
table
.
In
his
right
hand
he
held
a
slip
of
litmus-paper
.
"
You
come
at
a
crisis
,
Watson
,
"
said
he
.
"
If
this
paper
remains
blue
,
all
is
well
.
If
it
turns
red
,
it
means
a
man
's
life
.
"
He
dipped
it
into
the
test-tube
and
it
flushed
at
once
into
a
dull
,
dirty
crimson
.
"
Hum
!
I
thought
as
much
!
"
he
cried
.
"
I
will
be
at
your
service
in
an
instant
,
Watson
.
You
will
find
tobacco
in
the
Persian
slipper
.
"
He
turned
to
his
desk
and
scribbled
off
several
telegrams
,
which
were
handed
over
to
the
page-boy
.
Then
he
threw
himself
down
into
the
chair
opposite
and
drew
up
his
knees
until
his
fingers
clasped
round
his
long
,
thin
shins
.
"
A
very
commonplace
little
murder
,
"
said
he
.
"
You
've
got
something
better
,
I
fancy
.
You
are
the
stormy
petrel
of
crime
,
Watson
.
What
is
it
?
"
I
handed
him
the
letter
,
which
he
read
with
the
most
concentrated
attention
.
"
It
does
not
tell
us
very
much
,
does
it
?
"
he
remarked
as
he
handed
it
back
to
me
.
"
Hardly
anything
.
"
"
And
yet
the
writing
is
of
interest
.
"
"
But
the
writing
is
not
his
own
.
"
"
Precisely
.
It
is
a
woman
's
.
"
"
A
man
's
surely
,
"
I
cried
.
