"Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Arthur Conan)

ness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature.
He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, and
occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of
observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those
mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official
police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his
doings: of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff
murder, of his clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson
brothers at Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had
accomplished so delicately and successfully for the reigning
family of Holland. Beyond these signs of his activity, however,
which I merely shared with all the readers of the daily press, I
knew little of my former friend and companion.
One night -- it was on the twentieth of March, 1888 -- I was
returning from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to
civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I
passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associ-
ated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of
the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see
Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordi-
nary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I
looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark
silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly,
eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped
behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his
attitude and manner told their own story. He was at work again.
He had risen out of his drug-created dreams and was hot upon
the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell and was shown
up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own.
His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad,
I think, to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly
eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of
cigars, and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the corner.
Then he stood before the fire and looked me over in his singular
introspective fashion.
"Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that
you have put on seven and a half pounds since I saw you."
"Seven!" I answered.
"Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle
more, I fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You
did not tell me that you intended to go into harness."
"Then, how do you know?"
"I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been
getting yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy
and careless servant girl?"
"My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would
certainly have been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It
is true that I had a country walk on Thursday and came home in a
dreadful mess, but as I have changed my clothes I can't imagine
how you deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and my