"Doyle, Arthur Conan - His Last Bow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Arthur Conan)

glance at the message. Suddenly he turned upon me with a
mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"I suppose, Watson, we must look upon you as a man of
letters," said he. "How do you define the word 'grotesque'?"
"Strange -- remarkable," I suggested.
He shook his head at my definition.
"There is surely something more than that," said he; "some
underlying suggestion of the tragic and the terrible. If you cast
your mind back to some of those narratives with which you have
afflicted a long-suffering public, you will recognize how often
the grotesque has deepened into the criminal. Think of that little
affair of the red-headed men. That was grotesque enough in the
outset, and yet it ended in a desperate attempt at robbery. Or,
again, there was that most grotesque affair of the five orange
pips, which led straight to a murderous conspiracy. The word
puts me on the alert."
"Have you it there?" I asked.
He read the telegram aloud.

"Have just had most incredible and grotesque experi-
ence. May I consult you?
"Scott Eccles,
"Post-Office, Charing Cross."

"Man or woman?" I asked.
"Oh, man, of course. No woman would ever send a reply-
paid telegram. She would have come."
"Will you see him?"
"My dear Watson, you know how bored I have been since we
locked up Colonel Carruthers. My mind is like a racing engine,
tearing itself to pieces because it is not connected up with the
work for which it was built. Life is commonplace; the papers are
sterile; audacity and romance seem to have passed forever from
the criminal world. Can you ask me, then, whether I am ready to
look into any new problem, however trivial it may prove? But
here, unless I am mistaken, is our client."
A measured step was heard upon the stairs, and a moment
later a stout, tall, gray-whiskered and solemnly respectable per-
son was ushered into the room. His life history was written in his
heavy features and pompous manner. From his spats to his
gold-rimmed spectacles he was a Conservative, a churchman, a
good citizen, orthodox and conventional to the last degree. But
same amazing experience had disturbed his native composure
and left its traces in his bristling hair, his flushed, angry cheeks
and his flurried, excited manner. He plunged instantly into his
business.
"I have had a most singular and unpleasant experience, Mr.
Holmes," said he. "Never in my life have I been placed in such
a situation. It is most improper -- most outrageous. I must insist
upon some explanation." He swelled and puffed in his anger.